Legacy
by Sevandor1
Summary: After discovering things that were sent with him in his escape pod, Megamind learns the story of what happened to his homeworld, why he was the only one saved, and what this is beginning to mean for his future - and all of Earth's. Now complete!
1. The Story Begins

Disclaimer: This is original non-profit fan work, intended solely for the entertainment of the readers, and in no way intends any infringement on any copyrights, trademarks, or licenses held by Dreamworks Animation SKG, Alan Schoolcroft, Brent Simons, or the holders of any other legal rights or licenses pertaining to Megamind.

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><p><em>Author's Note: I'm sorry that it's taken so long for me to finally begin this tale, but it took a lot of thinking and preparing and then deciding how I wanted to present it. It's probably going to come out more slowly than my other novels because the presentation I chose is going to be a bit tricky to pull off, but in the end, I think it'll be worth it. A side note: none of the bits and pieces of alien language and names used in this chapter are conscious imitations of any real languages. It's all from the fevered imagination of my Muse, who prior to this has constructed three entire original languages which I've used in both my original fiction and some of my fan fiction. What can I say, I've always enjoyed linguistics and etymology.<em>

_The present time part of this story (and the latter half of this chapter) picks up more or less directly after the epilogue of Getting Back to Business, so if you'd like to get a bit of a running start with what's going on in the here-and-now, you might want to read that first. (And the present day portion of this chapter begins during the November weekend referred to in "Summer Love.")_

_TINY WARNING: If you have issues with the discussion of genetics, this story won't be for you. It's not a clinical discussion beyond a paragraph or two, but while the biggest specific discussion of it is in this chapter, the importance of its ramifications for a certain person is a huge part of the story, the root of his personal legacy. I figure most people won't have a problem with this, but I thought I should mention it here at the start, just in case.  
><em>

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><p>Chapter One<p>

The Story Begins

"Mother, are you _sure?"_

At her daughter's question — which came with equal parts of amazement and fearful shock — Tayames Yareli nodded heavily and tapped the controls of the data nexus, set into the clear surface of a low table at the center of the sunken part of her office, where she would speak with both guests and those visiting on business. This occasion was one combining both, as the visitor was her daughter as well as a client who had come to hear the results of her recent pre-natal intensive genetic scan. Her touch summoned a three dimensional projection of the subject under discussion, the complex genetic structure of the child in her daughter's womb, just past his first quarter of gestation.

"As sure as any of us can be," Tayames said, attempting to remain professional in this matter. "These are the results of his tests, and they have been double checked by your own bondfather. Other exams may give inaccurate results, but the genes themselves do not lie. If he is carried to term and survives the critical postpartum phase, the son you carry will have the potential to become _Natoshi'ana _— a Great One."

Kyrel eym Thejhan swallowed thickly, looking out the window of her mother's office across the sparkling blue-green waters of the broad river that ran through the center of the city, making its way from the inland plains and mountains to the sea. She and her husband, Eliaan, had of course been thrilled when she had conceived; there was no such thing as an unwanted child on Ayalthis, not for hundreds of generations. The peace loving, creative and deeply curious people of this world had learned much over their fifty millennia of civilization, and only the scientists who specialized in such things could now say how long ago this aspect of their reproduction had first manifested.

But now, it was accepted for the reality it was. The dominant land dwelling species of the planet — the blue-skinned, large-headed humans — conceived only by the conscious choice of both full adult parents. This had not always been so, of course, but it had been the way of things for so long, only certain specialists in medicine and genetics and history gave it any thought. Kyrel and Eliaan both wished to begin raising a family now, and so she had conceived soon after they reached that decision.

They had known that the babe would be male since very soon after Kyrel became aware that she was with child, and they had discussed the possible names for him ever since. At the end of her first quarter, it was the custom for intensive genetic tests to be performed, to tell the parents certain things about their child. The exams could tell them much about how their son or daughter would develop physically and what latent gifts he or she might possess. After learning these things, it was tradition for the parents to then choose a name for their son or daughter. The days between the testing and the discovery of the results were a happy time for the expectant parents and their kin, as they all speculated about the unborn child's future, and myriad names were suggested.

Recently, there had been a fair amount of wild speculation about this little boy. Eliaan's family — the Thejhan, a clan more ancient than the Yareli and now Kyrel's clan by marriage — were quite certain that given the talents of his parents, the boy would certainly be a gifted engineer or ambassador. Kyrel's kin were equally positive that his talents would lean either to architecture or some field of biology. Her bondbrother Varaan was utterly certain that the boy would show strong aptitude in the arts. That they all suggested what were common professions and avocations in each of the two clans... Well, that was quite typical, and Kyrel and her husband had happily joined in the debates.

But now...! At the same time her heart soared, it also sank. Kyrel knew all too well what her mother, an accomplished geneticist and an Elder of their people, had said, and what it meant. High intelligence and creativity was normal for their kind, as were intense emotions. These things had been a valued part of their lives for so many generations, they were now in the very blood and bone of their race. But there were certain genes that were carried by most of their people, ones that very seldom expressed in combinations that would influence the child carrying them. Most commonly, only one or two of the six pairs that were part of this specific set would manifest, and when they did, they had little or no effect on the child. Rarely, three or more but not all of the critical pairs would manifest, and depending on which ones developed, the result could be a prodigy of several different kinds. But when all six were present...!

Almost invariably, the results were tragic. Because of the physical characteristics that were a part of this combination, the child seldom survived the first quarter of gestation. Nature recognized the unfortunate expression of genes that was only marginally viable, and usually did the merciful thing, causing a miscarriage well before the mother's life might become threatened, allowing her to recover quickly and try again, often before she even realized that she had conceived.

Of those who did survive beyond the first quarter, very few were carried through to the third quarter, and even fewer survived into the fourth. Of the very, _very _few who were actually carried to term and were born alive, most did not survive beyond the first three days. The last such child who had made it to a live birth — but lived only two days beyond — had been born nearly three centuries ago. And only one in a billion such conceptions produced a child healthy and strong enough to not only survive the physical manifestation of their genetic structure, but to flourish in its despite. The last who had survived beyond the critical post birth days — when the body, now separate from the mother, struggled to nourish the extraordinarily active and swiftly growing brain with less than ordinary physical resources — had been born over nine hundred years before.

But Sejillaas Lontyar, that survivor, had become what Ayalthan history called _Natoshi'ana, _an exceptionally intelligent and talented person, colloquially a Great One. Once in every thousand years or so, such a child was born to their people and not only survived but thrived, and always, their capacity for creativity and intelligence when they reached full maturation had changed the course of their world, for good.

Kyrel was stunned to hear the prognosis. "Are you certain there was no mistake?" she asked, a pointless question since she knew that with her mother, no conclusion was given to the parents until there was no doubting its accuracy. "No accidental confusion of records? A possibility that this might be some other child, not mine?"

Tayames nodded heavily as with a gesture, the key portions of the three-dimensional genetic display glowed a soft but brighter green. She did her best to speak as professional to client, not as a mother to her daughter. "No, this is your son's record, and the analysis is completely certain. The sequence of the six homozygous alleles is as distinctive as it is rare. I have seen many partial recessive sequences in my work in prenatal genetics. I have had two clients who carried children with different variations of the five alleles sequence, one quite recently. But never have I seen any with the full six outside of images in historical teaching records, until now."

The elder woman's eyes — a deep purple-blue that was almost as striking as her daughter's vivid green — looked from the display to her child, her expression one of great sadness as her professional veneer melted away. "As a geneticist, I have always wondered if I would ever see such a child. Now, I wish with all my heart that I never had. I know how much you and Eliaan were looking forward to this, Kyrel, and I would that I had better news to give you, something that wouldn't inevitably spell the end of your joy."

Kyrel understood her sympathy — but she couldn't bring herself to accept it, not yet. She knew the stark reality of the situation. The odds favored that her son would not be carried to term, that he would die long before he could be born, or at best would come into the world only to leave it very shortly thereafter, barely giving his parents enough time to properly greet him before saying goodbye. It was all but certain — and yet, there was a one in a billion chance that he would live and survive and flourish, and grow to become such a person as rarely graced their world, a person whose raw potential made him truly destined for greatness.

On another world, perhaps even to another person, this diagnosis would have been devastating news. But all Ayalthans held a powerful belief in Destiny, in the Universe working in ways both obvious and subtle that would lead everything in it toward some slowly unfolding and greater purpose. And Kyrel not only believed in Destiny, but she was possessed of an almost reckless optimism, as was Eliaan. Both she and her spouse could never believe that a thing was impossible when it seemed to them that it should not be, no matter what science and reason and existing evidence told them. There were always ways to achieve seemingly impossible goals, if one had the courage to persist. That had been a large part of what had first attracted the couple to one another, their mutual drive to always seek beyond the bounds of what was accepted fact, beyond the limits of what others claimed was possible. As often as it frustrated them, it brought them joy, for even the smallest victory was worth savoring.

In this case, much more than a small victory was at stake, and even as she felt the pain of what was a near certainty, her entire being calmed with a sense of stern and terrible resolve. Sometimes, when all the odds were against you, turning them in your favor was a matter of sheer will. She knew about these unfortunate unborn ones and why they so often miscarried. The genes that gave them their incredible potential in the form of an advanced brain which was an evolutionary leap beyond their people's current level of development always came paired with a body that had at best the ordinary resources of their kind, usually less. To survive, something needed to change that equation, to tip the odds in her son's favor.

Kyrel had read of geneticists who had tried to correct this particular imbalance while the child was still developing in the womb, but all those attempts had either failed and the miscarriage had still occurred, or the eventual birth had resulted in a child whose potential was crippled, even for the most ordinary of their kind. Such tampering had therefore been stopped, and the only pre-birth alterations that were allowed were ones to correct serious health conditions that many years of practice had showed were easily and safely accomplished.

Because of these ill-fated attempts at pre-birth "repair," the Elders and all their most skilled physicians had reasoned that the case of an unborn _Natoshi'ana _was not one of deformity or defect or disease. It was a rare combination that could result in an even more rare individual, and as such should not be tampered with. The very existence of Great Ones was a gift of the Universe itself, and such a gift was precious because of its extreme uniqueness, of its ability to live despite all the obstacles placed before it.

Kyrel could not change the working of Destiny; she knew it well. But she _could _do what was in her power to make it possible for Chance to find a way to become success. She could feel the life within her; she had been able to do so easily only a few days after her son had been conceived, and there was nothing weak or feeble or tentative about him. There was a strength in him that convinced her that he was indeed meant to live, beyond his time within her and beyond those first three days of life when his body and brain would struggle to find a balance and live. He only needed a chance, to somehow be given the extra support his tiny growing self required to have the time to survive, to develop his strength and beat the odds.

And she would give him that chance. Whatever her own body must do to sustain and nourish the life within her, it would do because she would will it to be so; if needs be, she would force it by whatever means were available to her. She would attune herself to the needs of that tiny life, make use of all the science their world possessed, and give her unborn son whatever he needed to grow and overcome the obstacles presented by his genetics — not by artificial means or external intervention, but by giving of her own resources to create within her the perfect environment her son needed, no matter the cost to herself.

Eliaan would hear this news, and he would believe exactly as his spouse did. As she thought this, a small smile crept across her face. They had heard and discussed so many different names for their son, all following the traditions of their people. Most of those which their friends and relations had suggested reflected not what the child would be, but what future they wanted the boy to consider, or the path he might feel he was destined to follow because of his name. But after she had first felt the stirring of his life like a tiny but dazzling light within, Kyrel had been inclined to favor only one name, a name her husband had suggested one lovely evening when she'd mentioned these feelings while they watched the dance of the softly colored ribbon lights that often appeared in the skies of their region during the cold months of the year.

"Then we will have to begin preparations for him now, Mother," she declared with absolute certainty. "Because this was no mere chance; it is the hand of Destiny. My son _will _survive, and thrive, and carry with him the future of our world and our people. Mykaal is destined for greatness, and he _will_ live to achieve that destiny."

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><p>"Whoa, hold on, wait just one second! Are you telling me that <em>you <em>were — are — were — are supposed to be some kind of once in God-only-knows-how-many lifetimes prodigy — and that you should've died a long time before you even had a chance to be born?"

Megamind — as excited and wired as anyone had seen him in... well, perhaps forever — blinked at Roxanne from across the breakfast table, where he'd started to tell her and Minion the tale he had just learned after four hours of direct-to-his-brain input from the sleep teaching device he'd found in his escape pod, following the recorded directions of his own long dead father. After he'd wakened from the session, he had just laid there on the library sofa, reviewing with astonishment everything now in his brain, both the detailed story of how he had come to be sent to Earth, and certain other necessary bits of information, like a partial history of his homeworld — Ayalthis — and his native language. That had taken another two hours, and when he'd suddenly snapped into focus again, he couldn't wait to run to tell Roxanne and Minion all that he'd discovered.

Fortunately, that had been almost seven hours after Roxanne had gone to sleep, and just about the time Minion usually got up to get breakfast started and check the patrol monitors to see if their aid was needed anywhere in the city. He was up a little earlier than usual today because he needed to be downtown to take his place as the grand marshal of the city's annual holiday parade by ten o'clock. Though Roxanne would've liked another hour or two to sleep in, it was Saturday, she was off work until the time came to record Wayne's big interview tomorrow, and if she wanted to take a nap in the afternoon, no one would stop her. From Minion's report about the status monitors, unless some fiend decided to crash the holiday parade, it was shaping up to be a dull Saturday in Metro City.

Or she'd thought as much when she'd agreed to get out of bed to hear what had her husband so excited. When he'd told her the "experiment" had worked, she'd barely been able to remember him getting up in the middle of the night to go test their idea for how he might squeeze a bit of new information from the data sphere that contained recorded messages from his parents. When he hadn't returned soon, either sad or ecstatic, she'd figured that when he finally did come to waken her, she would find that it had either taken all night to dig up anything, or what new information was there to be found hadn't been terribly enlightening. Now, after an hour of non-stop babbling from him, she realized that this might not turn out to be such a quiet and boring Saturday, after all.

After giving her and Minion a comparatively brief synopsis of what he'd found and learned, Megamind had been talking almost without pause for a breath, recounting the story that had been imparted to him via the sleep teacher, a tale with images so vivid, it had almost been like watching events take place before him.

Now, the hero's big green eyes favored his wife with the most puzzled yet excited expression. "Yes, of course that's what I'm telling you! Isn't it fascinating? I've always wondered, you know, why I was the only one sent off to safety — or that's what I'd presumed, since the only other pod to come to Earth was Wayne's, not another child from my planet. Ayalthis!" His entire face lit up with brilliant delight. "It has a _name_, Roxanne, not just the Blue Planet or whatever it was I'd been exposed to during the short time I was there! But that's why they sent me, don't you see? Because what I was was so uncommon, someone they thought had been born for a reason, a very important reason! My parents loved me and had done everything they could to make sure that I was born alive and healthy, and everyone else — well, I can't say for sure that it was _everyone _else, there were probably some people who didn't agree, but you see, my mother's mother and my father's father were both... ah, I think Elders would be the closest titles, not that they were _older _than everyone else,but that they had respected status as highly educated and exceptionally wise members of their clans, as well as their professions, and so were elected to the governing body of the planet — which actually included members of Minion's species, too, since they were also highly intelligent and civilized, working with—"

"Sir," the ichthyoid interrupted before Megamind could get totally out of hand in his enthusiastic ramblings, "you can't tell us everything at once!"

Roxanne gave the fish a grateful look for his timely support. "That's right, sweetie," she told her husband. "Let's try to stick to one story at a time. So two of your grandparents were highly respected and had a kind of political clout, is that it?"

The big blue head nodded vigorously at the same time he tried to wet his throat with a swallow of coffee, which ended with him going completely purple-faced from coughing as some of the hot liquid went down his windpipe. Roxanne tried to help with some gentle pats to his back while Minion fetched a glass of plain water for his ward to sip and a dishrag to wipe up what he'd coughed out. Neither he nor the reporter minded, since it forced the ex-villain to slow down for a minute to catch his breath and get his voice back.

"Yes," he finally croaked out. "They had political positions, though they only used them to get my parents' request to save me heard, not to force their wishes on others. They _did _know that the planet was in danger of being destroyed, you see, and they found out... oh, I think it was almost half a year before I was born."

"I always thought that was the case," Minion said thoughtfully as he wiped the spatters of coffee from the table. "You know I'm a little older than you are, sir, and I do have some vague memories from before we left — nothing as clear as yours, of course, but I seem to remember my own parents one day coming home very, very sad and worried, as if something terrible had happened. I didn't understand that the bad thing hadn't happened yet until I was put in the pod with you and sent away."

Megamind nodded again, this time less vigorously. "That's just what happened. You know, your parents and mine—"

"Just hold on, there," Roxanne cut in, not wanting to get completely lost in a tangle of half-told tales. "Let's try to keep things in order, okay? So way before you were actually born, your parents and grandparents all knew you were going to be some kind of exceptional..." She hesitated, biting her lip as she searched for the right way to put it. "I don't want to call it a mutation, that has kinda bad vibes to it, but..."

But Megamind was completely unoffended — actually excited. "No, no, that's exactly right! That's what happens when the gene sequence has those six homozygous alleles, the matching recessive pairs. It causes a kind of mutation, but a very predictable one — a typically unviable one, too, unfortunately. If they survive, all the children born with those genes _will _develop a high level of intelligence and creative ability, but they can't wholly manifest those traits until the brain and body are completely mature, and even then, they need special guidance and training in order to develop their full potential."

His animated face suddenly fell, his excitement dimming like a bright candle doused with half the water in Lake Michigan. "I never had any of that," he admitted softly, sadly. "And it's my own fault. If I hadn't decided I _had_ to be a villain when I was six because of one obnoxious superpowered bully, I might've been able to go to real _shkools, _could've gone to a university or some place where they had facilities that didn't have to be scrounged together from salvage or bought on the black market. Even if they couldn't actually teach me any subjects I didn't already know from my own studies and the correspondence courses they had me take in prison, I might've at least learned _some_ kind of intellectual discipline. Now, I'm starting at square one, with nothing...!"

Both his wife and his piscine friend were moved by his abrupt shift into sad remorse. Roxanne reached out and took the nearer of his hands. "Hey, don't put yourself down like that," she chided gently. "You _aren't _exactly starting from scratch! Yes, you might not have had the formal kind of educational discipline, but look at how much you've managed to accomplish even without it!"

"That's right, sir!" Minion added most supportively. "Why, you started out with nothing at all and still managed to do and create things some of the best scientists in the world think are impossible! Besides, if you hadn't caused trouble so that they wanted you kept in prison, you might've wound up locked up in a very different kind of institution — on display in some sort of museum or zoo, or in the kind of facility most people don't believe actually exists."

Megamind shivered at the very thought, and Roxanne understood completely. Though he had never been subjected to the unscrupulous scrutiny of people wanting to examine or exploit him, the blue genius was now all too aware of how narrowly he had escaped such a fate.

It was something he had always wondered about, how he, an obvious extraterrestrial, had managed to avoid becoming either a lab rat for curious vivisectionist scientists or an enslaved genius for those who wanted to use his talents for their own profit. As a powerless and defenseless child, he couldn't have fought them — so Warden Thurmer had fought for him. Even before anyone outside the prison had known the blue baby existed, he'd called in favors to get proper birth certificates made for the foundling, and had himself appointed as the baby's legal guardian. When the first news of an alien child living in Metro City's prison had leaked, Thurmer and his guards had been there, ready to block any access to him.

The now-retired warden and former Officer Davis had told Megamind the entire tale of their conspiracy on the Monday after the wedding, while Roxanne had been catching up with her own family and friends at the breakfast they'd all shared before the guests headed home. The alien had been a little shocked to discover just how much they'd deliberately kept from him. Even sending him to the L'il Gifted School had been a carefully calculated risk, possible only because the school had been so close to the prison — and thus to the vigilant eyes of the prison guards — and because with the superpowered and super-wealthy Scott boy as one of the students, security was tight, and no stranger could approach the place or the students without being spotted and turned away as a danger to them all.

Megamind truly hadn't known how often people from various government agencies or civilian research labs had come around, either begging to have access to the boy "just for testing," or demanding that he be released to their agencies "for the greater good" or "for national security." Soon after young Blue's existence had become common knowledge —following the paint bomb incident that had ended his seven months in kindergarten — it had been at least a monthly thing, fighting off the people who wanted the alien either dead and dissected to assuage their curiosity and provide fodder for papers to further their own careers, or who wanted to harness his clever brain for their own ignoble purposes. When he'd reached puberty, the scientists had become even more interested in either taking him apart or having him undergo "breeding tests" to find out if he was reproductively compatible with Earth humans, or with other Terran primates. The very thought of being forced into mating like some kind of animal chilled the blue hero to his very marrow.

But Thurmer and his men had stood fast against them all, armed with the legal weapons that came with the warden's complete formal guardianship of the boy. Any move made to grab him by outsiders, even government agents, was blocked in legal channels. The warden had even gone so far as to call in the help of friends who sat on the state's supreme court and in Congress to help him wield the weapons he had in the laws that protected minors from abuse of any kind. The only outsiders he'd allowed near young Mykaal had been three doctors, all part of a private medical school's research staff headed by Officer Davis' own brother. The tests they'd conducted had been for the boy's sake, in case Mykaal ever became ill or injured and required medical help. When Mykaal was in his early teens and had become interested in his own genetics, Thurmer had allowed Davis' brother to handle the research. Once the tests had been completed and the findings recorded, all tissue samples had been destroyed so that they wouldn't fall into the hands of the unscrupulous.

When the boy — now calling himself Megamind — had grown into a juvenile delinquent, he had saddened Thurmer and those who'd grown fond of him, but he'd also made it easier for them to protect him until he reached eighteen and became an adult citizen in his own right, fully protected by all the laws of the land. And by then, even without the discipline of school behind him, Megamind had learned how to protect himself, to avoid capture by anyone but his superpowered nemesis, whose sense of justice and fair play wouldn't allow him to hand the defeated villain over to anyone but the prison authorities. It hadn't been a perfect solution, but it had made the best of a potentially horrifying situation, and in the end, it had worked. If he'd behaved himself and had been sent off to an ordinary college or university, Megamind might have learned academic discipline, but he would also have failed to learn the skills to protect himself from being abducted and abused when Thurmer could no longer fight for him.

It was a strange irony, and one that Roxanne never failed to both notice and appreciate. "I could wish you hadn't learned all about the methods and pitfalls of kidnapping by practicing on me," she said with as much good humor as she could fit into the words without laughing. "But at least learning how to avoid it yourself before you first tried it with me taught you how _not_ to put me in danger every time you kidnapped me. No ordinary school would've taught you that, and since you needed to understand these things in order to protect yourself, it's just as well that you stayed out of them."

"I suppose that's true," the reformed criminal reflected after taking another swallow of his cooled coffee. "It could've turned out that the only thing I learned from _shkool_ was how terrible they were when it came to keeping the students safe."

"I'll say. If even by the standards of your own people you had the potential to be some kind of extraordinary supergenius, I shudder to think what some unscrupulous military type bent on finding _real_ ultimate weapons of mass destruction would've done with you if you'd been sent into a normal school environment where there aren't armed guards and reinforced walls and heavy security systems between them and you. You would've been grabbed in a heartbeat on your first day of school!"

Megamind nodded slowly, his faint smile crooked and wistful. "I know. I used to think that growing up in prison was the worst life imaginable, but I'm coming to understand that it really could have been much, much worse. If Destiny really did have something to do with where my pod landed, it made the right choice. It sent me to a place with people who cared enough to want to protect me until I could protect myself, and who had extraordinary means of doing so."

Roxanne agreed. "And don't forget that going to school might not have made any difference at all until you finally reached full maturity. That's what you said, isn't it? That people with your genetic condition couldn't really make the best use of their natural gifts until their brain was completely developed?"

Now, his nod was more enthusiastic. "Yes, exactly! That's why I couldn't get any new information from the data sphere until last night. I needed to have reached the right state of both physical — specifically cerebral — and emotional maturity, otherwise things wouldn't work properly. And my parents _wanted_ it to work, they spent months making all the plans and preparations and arrangements. It's actually quite amazing how much effort was put into this. Into saving me." He said the last three words softly, with great and unashamed awe.

The room was quiet for a moment. When Minion broke the silence, he did so just a bit hesitantly. "Was saving me just an afterthought, then?" he wondered, not wanting to sound hurt but not quite able to hide it. "Was I just a fish in a ball your parents picked up to keep you company on the trip?"

Megamind shook off the reverie that was distancing him from the here and now. "An afterthought? Oh, no, Minion, of course not, not at all! That was something else I learned last night, about how my people and yours were both intelligent civilizations sharing the same world, one originating on the land and the other in the seas. Mine just called themselves Ayalthans, inhabitants of the world, and yours were called the Potrell — the _minya'aun dosi, _the Protectors of the Waters..."

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><p><em>To be continued...<em>


	2. A Fish Tale

_Author's Note: A big thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, and favorited the start of this story. I really have no idea how long it's going to take to write it all, but I'm hoping that my Muse will be kind and let me produce at least one chapter a week. I do so enjoy creating new worlds and cultures and languages (big surprise, if one considers that my favorite authors are Tolkien, McCaffrey, Kurtz, and Dickson!), but it does take more work getting all those details straight. I have no illusions about Dreamworks ever wanting to use this kind of backstory for Megamind as some have suggested (Vivid Imaginest, you aren't alone, though you're the only one to have mentioned it in a review here); this is probably a lot more complex and "grown up" than they'd likely want to go. But I appreciate the compliment! Now, to continue with the tale..._

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><p>Chapter Two<p>

A Fish Tale

"So, you chose our son's name without me? I'm wounded, _tsia'le, _right to the heart! How could you make such an important decision without at least sending me the tiniest alert? Agh, this cuts so deep, I may never recover...!"

Her husband's typical dramatics — ended with a feigned fatal blow to the heart — brought a smile to Kyrel's face at the same time it prompted her to give him a light and playful swat that didn't actually make contact with his cheek. She and Eliaan were in the small garden park not far from their house along the river in their home city of Veskora, a pleasant place where they often met at the end of those days when their work took them apart from one another. Kyrel was a neurotechnician and microbiologist, Eliaan a xenologist and design engineer, so it was not uncommon for them to work together on a variety of projects. Today, however, Eliaan's presence had been needed to help analyze data brought back from one of their automated interstellar probes, while Kyrel had been in the middle of a project that would improve the implanted communications interfaces for their ichthyoid planet-mates, the Potrell. The news from her mother had come late that morning, while Eliaan was deep into his work for the day and couldn't get away, and though she had initially wanted to wait to hear the results of the gene scan, he had insisted she go.

She reminded him of that with a haughty air that was plainly exaggerated. "Because, _tsi'aan, _if you recall, it was _you _who suggested I go to hear the news from my mother alone, so that I could have the pleasure of finding out first and telling you second. Since that news wasn't what either of us had expected to hear, I expected you would forgive my spur of the moment decision and spare me these histrionics!"

Eliaan did indeed cease his dramatics, his long face and amber-brown eyes suddenly and sincerely apologetic. "I know, and I do understand," he said meekly. "There were no mistakes, I presume." It was not a question. "Mykaal is _Natoshi'ana_ — and yet, no tears?"

"No tears," she confirmed, weaving the slender fingers of one hand between the longer, broader ones of his. "I _was _distraught — but only for a few moments. I knew exactly what this meant, how it could end so soon in losing him, but something in me simply will not believe it! I know what science and logic tells us, but this is beyond that. From the first, we knew that our son is different. All the physicians we know have told us how strange it was that I could feel his presence only a few days after he was conceived."

One corner of Eliaan's mouth quirked into a wry smile at the memory, pulling his neat partial beard into a lopsided circle. "Yes, and every female we know who has ever given birth has said the same, that it should've taken at least several weeks before he developed enough for you to feel him within you. I've never doubted you, my heart, you know that."

She smiled back, softly. "I do, you've always trusted my judgment, more than perhaps you should. And I'm asking you to trust me now. It may be no more than wishful thinking, but I believe our son will live, and I intend to do all I can to help ensure it."

Her determination gave her spouse a momentary pang of concern. "The Council forbids any extraordinary measures, Kyrel..."

She nodded once, briskly. "Yes, any measures that attempt to alter the fetus of his genotype. But it isn't alteration or repair he needs, it's support, help in receiving the things he requires to survive, and a beneficial environment in which to grow and develop. Every woman who has borne a potential Great One has been told of her child's condition so early, how can the babe _not _develop in incredibly stressful and thus very harmful surroundings? That alone could rob him of much more than vital nutrients; it could poison the world in which he must live within me, turn it from a nurturing environment to an actively hostile one. I will _not _allow that to happen! I _do _believe Mykaal is meant to survive, and I _will _hold fast to that belief until the Universe itself proves me wrong!"

She spoke with such fierce conviction, her husband took her by the shoulders and leaned forward to lay a soft, soothing kiss on her smooth brow. "Peace, _tsia'le, _I am convinced! If by will alone our son can be helped to live, you'll make it so. And in the matter of a mother helping to create a beneficial environment for her unborn child against great odds, I know _exactly _who can help..."

* * *

><p>"A Great One, you say? Yes, I've heard of them, but I've never <em>met <em>one..."

Eliaan laughed, amber brown eyes twinkling mischievously. "Nor has anyone still living, Toomia. The last one, Sejillaas, died about eight hundred years ago. They're uncommon, to say the least."

"And a terrible burden to their mother, it would seem, from what you've just told me. Is that why you came to me, then, to ask a fish how she managed to give birth to many healthy younglings without making a dried-up shell of herself?"

Kyrel nodded as she smiled at their old friend. Toomia, one of the piscine Potrell who had chosen a life working above the waters with the blue-skinned humans, was housed in an elegant cybernetic body that could easily move among and work with the land dwelling Ayalthans, an accommodation that had first been achieved many generations ago, when the two peoples came to know each other and wanted to work together for the benefit of both their peoples, and the whole world. The android bodies controlled by the minds of the piscines via an implanted neural interface not only opened to them whole new worlds of skills and interests they could not have pursued without them, but the interface also allowed them to to speak audibly while out of the water. The implant magnified the vibrations of the ichthyoids' small vocal mechanisms and gave them a natural voice clearly audible in open air. To use it correctly required some training — mostly living with the humans to learn to imitate the sounds of their language — and not all of the Potrell wished for such a life. But for those whose natural gifts could be better explored and expressed outside the waters, they believed these things that made it possible to be a gift of the Unseen One.

Both Toomia and her mate, Notarr, were Potrell who found a life working alongside the land-dwelling humans to be most rewarding, just as there were humans who found donning the devices so that they could work with the Potrell beneath the waters to be most fulfilling. Their particular skills — Notarr was a microbiologist, and Toomia had a true gift for the kinds of engineering skills that could take the drafts of others and turn them into reality — had led them to this life on the land, and to their work at the same nanotechnology labs where Kyrel and Eliaan most often labored. The four of them had complementary skills and personalities, and had become friends both in and outside their workplace.

Toomia's quip about having many young ones was direct and quite true. Only two months before, she had given birth to four younglings — an unusual number, even among her kind. Unlike the common, unintelligent, gill-breathing fishes of the salty oceans, the fresh-water, lung-breathing Potrell did not breed in massive numbers. That was a safeguard of lesser species, against the predators and elements which killed most of their young while still in the egg or as tiny newborn fry without the protection of parents.

The civilized, intelligent Potrell had powerful natural protective instincts toward their young, their world, their kin and friends — hence the name they had adopted for themselves from the language of the humans, the _minya'aunen, _the protectors. As the majority of their people still lived within the abundant fresh waters of Ayalthis' many deep lakes and broad rivers, it was most common for all Potrell to be known as the protectors of the waters, which was not entirely untrue, since even those who worked and walked upon the land had a keen interest in making certain their native environment was kept safe and pristine.

Whatever the case, it was normal for the Potrell to have only one child at a time, on rare occasion two. Only a month or so before, Toomia had borne four, three daughters and a son, and it had been a difficult time for her, from conception to birth. Yet small though she was, she had carried the younglings with a stern determination to ensure that all would be born alive and healthy. And they had been, despite the insistence of physicians that they would be crippled or sickly because their mother's body could not have properly sustained them in the womb. Toomia had heard all that nonsense early on, and had made every effort to prove it wrong. She now had four strong and healthy younglings, who were alive and well and living proof that though reason said one thing should happen, persistence and determined care could create a far different conclusion.

Now, Kyrel smiled at her old friend. "Not how to give birth to _many_ young," she corrected. "Only one, who will need all the care and support my body can give him to balance the difficulties he will face because of what he will become. I know it wasn't your stubbornness alone that helped you bring your little ones safely into this world, Toomia. You used other means to help, techniques of exercise, of supplementing your diet with certain things at certain times, of meditation and rest."

Toomia blew a small stream of bubbles within the clear dome "head" of her humanoid habitat. The glass-like material of the dome was selectively permeable, allowing primarily gasses to pass in and out so that the inhabitant would always have fresh air to breathe while being constantly surrounded by a clean bath of the moisture their tissues required to remain healthy. A much smaller area could be penetrated by solid objects or liquids when steady direct pressure was applied, to make eating meals a neat and simple process. "And you think that what worked for a fish will work for you?"

Eliaan snorted and rolled his eyes. "Oh, yes, she's planning to spend the rest of her term in the river, with a breather pack and a fin suit. After all, you and Notarr spend most of your time here on the land, so she felt an extended return visit was completely in order..."

The piscine squirted a thin stream of water right through the eating area of her dome and straight into Eliaan's face. "Only if you come with her," she said primly. "You males have no idea how many difficulties bearing children can present, and if you want my help, I expect you to be helping right alongside me, for whatever your wife needs and for as long as she needs it."

Kyrel half-smothered her chuckles at Toomia's stern attitude. She knew the fish was nowhere near as domineering as she sometimes seemed, but Eliaan's joking and dramatic nature just brought out that side of her, in an affectionately teasing manner. "He'll be there, Toomia," she assured their friend. "Even if he hadn't already promised as much, I knew I could count on you to make sure of it."

"Of course I will!" Eliaan sputtered, wiping the water from his eyes with an extravagant gesture. "I — great stars above, have you grown a spare set of eyes...?"

His question was aimed at the cyber-bodied ichthyoid. Inside her dome, in the softly lighted space below her, a second, smaller pair of bright amber eyes appeared, peeking out from under her broad translucent lateral fins and amid the tangle of her long ventral tendrils, blinking curiously at the two blue-skinned humans.

Toomia laughed. "Certainly, Eliaan, I've always wanted to carry extra eyes, just in case some foolish bird manages to break through my habitat and peck out the ones I have." Her tendrils moved gently, caressing the much smaller fish below her who had just wakened, soothing away any nervousness or disorientation he might be feeling. "This is my son, Ootori. He was supposed to be spending the day with his sisters in the care of my kin in the river-city, but when he was curious about my surface body last night, I let him inside to see what it's like and we couldn't persuade him to come out again until I promised to bring him with me today."

Her tone softened as she made a sound somewhat like a burbling trill. "Tori, these are our friends, Kyrel and Eliaan of the Thejhan. They are expecting a youngling of their own at the end of the year, but Kyrel will need our help to make sure he is able to come to us strong and healthy, like you and your sisters. Would you like to help me help Kyrel and her little boy?"

At his very young age, Ootori didn't understand the words his mother spoke, but he could sense the feelings she and the two humans projected very clearly. The startled blue man had eyes the color of his mother's and his own, bright and curious and laughing, and the blue woman's face was gentle and kind, her eyes a pretty bright green. She smiled at him, and though the youngling's tiny fins flittered quickly, as if to flee, he felt something warm and pleasant from her, and smiled back, shyly. The Potrell — an originally predatory race that now were less savage in their eating habits but still used their formidable jaws as well as their mildly electric tentacles and crests in their protection of their underwater settlements — were all born with teeth, usually tiny little teeth in perfectly neat rows. Ootori had some of those, but also two large and slightly crooked center teeth on his lower jaw. It gave him a distinctly boyish look that charmed the land-dwellers.

"I can see he's going to grow up to be a fearsome _minya'aun, _Toomia," Eliaan said with a broad grin for the tiny piscine. "No doubt he will be the chief defender of all the Dusiomi River, from headwater to estuary."

The female ichthyoid hummed with pleasure at the compliment. "Oh, I think he'll be formidable in whatever work he chooses, but I suspect he'll not be content in the river, not as his sisters seem to be. They have yet to show any interest at all in these bodies we use to walk the land, while Tori has been intrigued by them from the first. He may grow to be a protector, but not in the waters, I think. There are _minya'aun daavi _as well, and he may find his calling as a protector of the land. A good future, since both the lands and the waters are a vital part of all our lives."

She sighed. "In any case, he will need many more years of growing and learning before he must choose his lifestream. For now, he may truly be able to help us give your youngling the chance he needs to live. In spite of his age, Tori is very perceptive of the feelings of all about him; he knows when others are happy, and when they are feeling stresses even they don't quite recognize. He may not be able to speak quite yet, even in our underwater tongue, but he has his ways of letting me know when he senses something distressing in someone he likes."

Kyrel looked at the little piscine, who had bravely come out a little farther from the protection of his mother's body. "And do you like us well enough to want to help our unborn son, Tori?"

Tori really had no idea what the blue lady was saying, but her friendly manner and warmth reminded him of his own mother, which made him happy. He smiled a bit more widely, showing off his two crooked teeth in a way that made Eliaan laugh.

"I think that's his way of saying yes, _tsia'le,"_ he said, settling one long arm across his wife's shoulders. "And I believe you're right, Toomia, he won't be one for spending all his life beneath the surface."

Toomia hummed her agreement. "Your little one has a great destiny before him, if he can find the path to it, and I think the same holds true for my little Tori. With guidance, he found his way to a healthy life in spite of all, so perhaps while I help you to do what you can to support and sustain your youngling while he is within you, Tori can be an emotional beacon for your son to follow to this world without. Their feelings are strong, these very young ones, and it was the love of others as much anything which helped me to carry my four safely. For all that he is but a babe himself, Tori has much to give."

While they spoke of him, the tiny piscine moved out from below his mother to the very edge of the habitat, his little flat face pushed against the dome's glass to see as much as he could of the people and world beyond, eyes wide and bright with curiosity. He may have been only a baby of his kind, but Tori already knew that the world above the waters was a fascinating place, and he wanted to see more of it, and of these blue people his mother called friends.

* * *

><p>Inside his somewhat less sophisticated cybersuit on Earth of the present day, those same eyes were blinking rapidly as the lower lip of the rather more toothy mouth trembled. "I met your parents when I was only two months old? And they wanted <em>me <em>to help make sure you didn't die, sir?" If it had been possible for him to literally weep while totally immersed in water, there would have been huge crocodile tears in Minion's amber eyes.

Megamind nodded, his own smile nostalgically sappy. "I don't remember it personally, of course, but I saw it in the Teacher's records last night. You have your mother's eyes, you know — just like I do."

Minion's flat face squinched up as he struggled to summon any shred of a memory that might verify this. Prior to their departure from their doomed homeworld, most of his memories were very hazy and disjointed. He knew that it was common for his kind — the Potrell, yes, that name felt very right to him — to grow and mature much more quickly than Megamind's people or even Earth humans. It was a trait from their pre-civilized past, when a long and slow maturation in the underwater environs was an almost sure recipe for quick extinction. He couldn't recall the incident with Megamind's parents, but he did remember the strong feelings that would have accompanied it. He remembered having a strange sort of protective attitude about something or someone not in his family during his earliest time of life, but until now, he hadn't realized it was toward an unborn friend who was struggling to find his way to a strong and healthy life, just as he had done.

And as that thought occurred to him, he remembered his mother being with him during something that scared him, soothing him with her voice and her touch, her large amber eyes holding his and somehow communicating a feeling of safety, that all would soon be well. He had no idea what had been happening at the time, but he remembered her calming presence and her gentle eyes more than anything else.

He smiled. "Yes, I remember that much, she had eyes like mine, you're right." He sighed hugely. "I wish I had a memory as good as yours, sir, or at least had something like that sleep teacher to show me what I can't remember!"

"Oh, that's not a problem!" Megamind assured him with an extravagant wave of one hand. "The message my father left me, telling me where to find it and how to use it said that others could use it, too, to see this part of our history if they wanted. It took about four hours for the session to complete for me, and he said it would be a little longer for you, up to nine hours for an Earth human. So anytime you want, you can see it all for yourself — or when you have six hours or so to spare."

Roxanne looked truly surprised. "And it would work for me, too? How can it? I don't even know your language!"

Her husband laughed, a happy rather than mocking sound. "Neither did I, really, until last night. The Teacher wouldn't give you instruction on the language like it did with me, but even without it, it wouldn't matter. The history is transmitted as a combination visual and emotional record stream, a kind of visceral data rather than static names and dates and so on. Sending it directly to your brain, it can compensate for any variations of language by detecting cerebral and emotional responses to the input and making appropriate necessary adjustments a nanosecond before sending the actual input. We all become essentially hardwired in ways to the languages we're exposed to in our earliest stages of life, you know, which explains both why the Teacher would need a longer time to work with non-Ayalthan brains and why I have certain persistent issues with pronunciation and phrasing. English, both standard and idiomatic, isn't entirely compatible with my earliest formative linguistic patterns, which began to be shaped by my exposure to the emotions and speech of my parents while I was still in the womb."

He rattled it off as nonchalantly as someone commenting on the nice weather. Both Minion and Roxanne stared at him, flabbergasted by what they'd just heard. His wife managed to find her voice first. "Did you just hear yourself?" she asked. "How do you know all that? You're talking about the way a device you'd never seen until last night works as if you were the one who invented it!"

The green eyes blinked as their owner considered what she'd just said. "I — don't know how I know it," he finally admitted. "But I do. I can see it in my head, plain as day. This is how the Teacher was designed to work, it's how it was able to easily augment and complete my knowledge of my native language, how it transmitted all the information about my parents and events leading to the destruction of my homeworld, and how it gave me detailed explanations of the device itself and how it works. It wouldn't work in quite the same way for you and Minion, but it _would _work to teach you the pertinent historical aspects."

He paused, reflecting on everything that had just come out of his mouth. He cleared his throat. "That _was_ a little weird, wasn't it? Maybe I shouldn't've just rushed into this without thinking it over for a little while... like a few months..."

But Roxanne shook her head. "I didn't say you shouldn't've done it. A sleep teaching device isn't really a scary thing, and if I knew nothing about where I'd come from but the fact that it was destroyed and I lost everything when I was only about a week old, I would've been just as eager to start getting answers to my questions as soon as I could. Heck, this isn't even about me, and if I'd found that thing first, I wouldn't've waited before hooking myself up to it! Ever since I first realized that you existed, I've wanted to know the whole story behind you and where you came from. But..." She paused, wanting to find just the right way to say what she was thinking.

Minion didn't have her problem. "But it's kinda freaky, sir, hearing you talk like an expert about things you knew absolutely nothing about just last night! I know you can be a fast learner, but this is _way _different!"

Roxanne agreed. "That's it. Is there any way for you to know exactly how much that thing put into your head while you were asleep?"

The blue genius swallowed thickly. "I don't know. There's a limit to the amount of information each data gem can hold and how fast it can output that information, but the amount can be limited by other factors, such as encryption and omnilinguistic translation ability, and the speed of assimilation is in direct proportion to the physical capacity of the subject/student's brain and their rate and efficiency of synaptic activity, generally on an exponential basis — and... I'm doing it again, aren't I?" he added, his tone both startled and sheepish, the lavender across his cheeks and ears deepening. "I'm sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me, I'm not doing this intentionally, I swear!"

His dismay was genuine, and from the glances they exchanged, both his wife and his best friend were thinking the same thing. Minion gestured for Roxanne to speak first, since she had a way with words that he lacked, especially when it came to more complex personal issues. "It's okay, sweetie," she told Megamind with a soft smile, taking his hand and squeezing it gently in reassurance. "We know you aren't doing it on purpose, it's kinda obvious. I can't be sure about this, since I'm certainly no scientist, but I do know that it's been almost a year since we saw the recording of your mother telling you that you've reached an age when you should be mature enough to make better use of your natural abilities."

She gave him a few moments to digest this, and when he had, some of the chagrin faded from his face. "That's true, it _has_ been that long. But the only difference it seemed to make was that I calmed down a little, stopped acting quite so much like a whiny brat showing off just to get attention. I didn't start doing things like _this_ on purpose! I don't even know what I'm saying — well, that's not quite true, I do understand it, I have no problem comprehending the concepts, theories, and realities of, for instance, the functioning of the sleep teaching device, I could draw you a detailed schematic of exactly how it effects the transfer of data from the storage crystal via the picometric neural inter—_gaaahhhh!"_

The ex-villain dragged both hands over his face, trying to physically interrupt the flow of words and thoughts that kept spilling from him. He was used to bragging about his inventions and his own perceived superiority; he'd done it for years as a villain in an attempt to assuage the pains of being rejected by the world and somehow failing in almost everything he attempted.

This was seriously different. This wasn't monologuing or extolling the imagined virtues of dastardly devices and wild schemes that couldn't possibly succeed because his enemy was invulnerable and the devices designed to hurt things but not people. This was like having another person inside him, one who could look at something, analyze it and understand it so quickly, he knew exactly how to describe anything and everything about it, from its basic design to the most complex scientific principles of its functions, and he suddenly knew just how to verbalize that information with correct and concise precision.

What had happened to him?

He trembled from head to toe, and just as he was about to jump to his feet, a reflex attempt to flee his suddenly skyrocketing anxiety, Roxanne caught the hand he'd pulled from hers, not only trying to keep him from bolting but also to help him calm down. She was shocked by the stricken look on his long face, spilling from his wide eyes like tears.

To her relief, Minion came up behind him, settling his broad robotic hands on Megamind's slender shoulders, not to pin him to his chair but to offer a gesture of comfort. "Sir," he said, doing his best to avoid any condescension. "Ever since you were able to talk, you've been saying how your father told you that you were destined for _something_ before we were sent away. You've known for a while that he and your mother believed you were destined for greatness, not villainy, and now you know why. I'll admit, it's an awful lot to take in so quickly, but it's nothing to be afraid of. You're still you, no matter what you learned from that sleep teaching thing and how you're reacting to it. It hasn't been very long, after all, so you might just be repeating some of the new stuff that's bouncing around in your brain."

The blue hero hardly thought so, but Roxanne took his other hand even as she agreed with his partner in crime-fighting. "That's right. You just had a lot of new information poured into your head, hon, and with all the extra real estate you've got up there, you probably need to give yourself more than a few hours to let it find the right places to settle in."

She could tell from his expression that Megamind didn't exactly believe that, but that he was also desperately looking for an explanation he could latch onto to explain this strange new behavior. She lightly rubbed the backs of his hands with her thumbs as she debated whether or not to say the other thing that had occurred to her.

She quickly decided that avoiding it wouldn't help and forged on. "It's also possible that this is part of what your mother was talking about when she said you'd be able to use your abilities better, once you'd matured enough in the right ways. Using that sleep teacher may have been what you needed to sort of throw the switch, to get things working the way they're supposed to. I know," she amended hastily as he began to protest. "That isn't the best way of putting it, it makes you sound like some kind of a machine, and I know you're not. But you did say something about people like you needing special training and guidance to properly develop their gifts. Maybe that's what this was, the kind of help you need."

The blue lips puckered with thought, then quirked into a wry expression of skepticism. "I rather doubt that one four hour long crash course on my planet's history, family events, and language is all I would need, Roxanne. Or if it is, then I'm not what they expected me to be. Maybe doing what was needed to help me survive messed up whatever potential I was supposed to have. My mother did know that tampering with unborn children with my genetic mutation could seriously cripple their capacity for cognitive development."

Minion laughed as he resumed his seat at the table, certain that his partner was no longer thinking of running away. "Yeah, right, and if you have crippled cognitive development, I'm a six-legged horse. Look, sir, why don't we table this for now and just try to get through a little more of the story you were telling us about what happened to our planet, why we were sent off to Earth. I may not have enough time for all of it before I have to leave for the parade, but I'd at least like to hear a little more."

Megamind considered that suggestion briefly before giving his agreement. "I guess that'd be best, deal with one thing at a time." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to focus and let go of the feelings of strangeness that had clawed at him when he'd caught himself rattling on in such an unexpected way. It was possible that Minion was right about him parroting things he'd learned via the Teacher — _Endal'shia'rem, _something in his mind whispered, that was its proper name, a Master of Instruction; Teacher was an adequate English equivalent — and he held onto that explanation for now, even though he knew in his heart that it wasn't exactly true. For the moment, it was enough to pull his abruptly skewed world back to a feeling of normalcy.

He let go of the breath he'd been holding in a long sigh, glad to feel much of his tension go with it. "Okay, back to the story," he told them, and himself. "I hope you understand now, Minion, that you certainly weren't just a fish in a ball that my parents picked up for me as an afterthought! Our parents were on very friendly terms, and I think they'd always had it in mind that _we_ should be friends, too, since we were close in age. But at that time, they were expecting a very different kind of future for us — a normal one."

"So they didn't know that your planet was in danger then, when your parents talked to Minion's mother?" Roxanne asked, still trying to sort these tales into some kind of sensible timeline even as she was grateful to them for providing a needed distraction for her husband.

"It wasn't _in _danger, then," Megamind clarified, relaxing as he got back into answering their questions about the tale of his past, which he still found exciting. "The accident that led to the destruction of the entire system didn't happen until several months later, about the time my mother was halfway through her term."

"Was it scientists from your planet who caused it?" It seemed a perfectly reasonable question, given how often Megamind had tried grandiose plans and inventions, only to meet with utter failure.

Unoffended, he waggled one hand. "Yes and no. The theories and designs that made it possible began with Ayalthan scientists — my Uncle Varaan and his associates, to be exact. But they weren't the ones who tried to implement the effect on a large scale outside of a highly controlled laboratory environment. _That _honor belonged to someone else entirely."

"Who?"

"Not anyone from Ayalthis. Our planet wasn't the only inhabited one in our system, you see. There were three others, each with its own dominant species. Cobin and Batuu were smaller worlds closer to the sun, quite habitable, but not very scientifically advanced. Cobin, was the smaller and more primitive; their culture and technology was similar to that of Europe around the time of the Industrial Revolution. Physically, they were about the same as Earth humans, but with less racial variation. My people observed them for a long time before making contact, and though they were quite friendly, we didn't want to interfere with their development, so our dealings with them tended to be infrequent and rather superficial — like making social calls to your neighbors. The other planet, Batuu, had a much more scientifically developed civilization, though they were still quite far behind Ayalthis, about on the order of present day Earth. They had an extremely fragmented political structure, also like Earth, with a lot of different nations always competing for superiority. They were a sort of avian/reptilian species, like they'd reached full sapience when they were halfway between the evolution from dinosaur to bird."

He suddenly laughed, a sound both his wife and his friend were glad to hear. "That could explain why I was so fascinated by turkeys, and thought they looked like velociraptors from a distance. I might have had some racial memories of the Batuu. They looked like partially-feathered velociraptors that had adapted into a more upright, human-like form. Anyway, some of their nations were _extremely_ xenophobic, so the contact had to be limited to the countries where bald, big-headed blue aliens could be accepted and not killed on sight."

"Thank goodness Earth wasn't _that _bad!" Minion opined with a relieved chuckle. "Some people may have _wanted _to do that, but there were others who cared enough to stop them — even in a prison."

Roxanne ran one finger around the rim of her empty coffee cup, causing a slight bowging squabble between Pinky and Madeleine as to who should have the honor of refilling her cup. Madeleine relented quickly after a lifted brow from Mommy warned the two female brainbots against carrying on; instead, while Pinky refilled the cup, Madeleine whisked away the empty plates and flatware.

Brainbot crisis averted, the reporter returned her attention to the much more important discussion. "That couldn't have been the world Wayne came from, then" she deduced. If the Batuu had been more human-like, she wouldn't have been surprised to find it was so, considering how Wayne had apparently had a less than sterling attitude toward Megamind from their very first encounter as babies.

But the ex-villain shook his head, able to see her train of thought. "No, there really wasn't any antagonism between his homeworld, Glaupek, and mine."

Minion's eyes widened in surprise. "Glaupek?" he repeated. "I always thought you said it was Glaupunk."

Megamind coughed, rather uncomfortably. "Well, ah... yeah, I know, I did, but that was sort of... deliberate." His entire face flushed bright fuchsia at the admission. "For some reason, the name of _his _planet stuck with me. When I was a kid, I was annoyed that I knew it but not the name of my own world, and I was mad at him for being such a bratty punk toward me. So I changed it on purpose to try to get back at him. It didn't really matter, he didn't even remember that he was an alien, so he could just ignore whatever I called his planet. After a while, it just became habit, and I didn't even think about it until I woke up this morning."

Neither Minion nor Roxanne could bring themselves to scold him for it, especially since Megamind had confessed to it without being forced or even cajoled. For herself, Roxanne was more interested in other things. "Okay, so your system had four inhabited worlds — I guess that explains why you called it the Glaupunk — Glaupek," she corrected herself, "quadrant. Four distinctly different inhabited worlds in the same system, four quadrants. Makes perfect sense. Was Glaupek closer to your sun, too?"

"No," her husband said as he doctored his coffee with sugar and cream after Pinky had refilled his cup. "Our sun was a KV type star, slightly smaller and cooler than Earth's sun, but much longer-lived, in stellar terms. There were actually seventeen planets in our system, some very large, some very small, even some in mutual orbits. Cobin and Batuu were smaller worlds, about the size of Mars, in the third and fourth orbital paths, Ayalthis was in the fifth, a little smaller than Earth, and Glaupek was the sixth, and was slightly bigger than Earth." He paused, considered what he'd just said, and decided it didn't sound too crazily outside his usual behavior when he was talking about a subject he enjoyed. He gave a small sigh of contented relief as he took a sip of his properly prepared coffee.

Roxanne tried to picture this in her head, like one of those animated things PBS made for science specials. When she had that image satisfactorily fixed in her mind's eye, she went back to her original question. "So if it wasn't someone from your planet who caused the accident and the people from those first two didn't have the technology to do it, then it had to have been someone from Glaupek. Were they trying to start a war?"

But Megamind shook his head. "Like I said, there was no antagonism between us; really, no one in the system was warlike — not by that time, at least. My people never were, the Batuu only fought to the death among themselves, the Cobini occasionally squabbled but didn't have the resources to mount actual wars, and the Glaupek had gone through their worldwide mass-destruction phase a few thousand years earlier, before we made contact with them. But still, some individuals were more ambitious than others _and_ more impatient. That was where the end started, with a merchant prince on Glaupek who just happened to be Wayne's father..."

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><p><em>To be continued...<em>


	3. Blind Ambition

_Author's Note: My thanks, as always, to everyone who has taken the time to read, review, and favorite this tale as it continues rolling along. I truly wish that I had the time (and the energy!) to respond individually to all of you to show my appreciation, but at my age, I do have to prioritize all the things going on in my life (like my husband's biopsy this week; fingers are still crossed while awaiting the results), and so things like regular correspondence fall by the wayside, to my chagrin. So once again, I want all of you to know how much I appreciate the feedback, and your willingness to come along for my strange little rides into fanfic. Now, on with the story!_

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><p>Chapter Three<br>Blind Ambition

Koan Rii was no fool. He was many other things: wealthy, powerful, well-educated, brave, handsome, charming — those were his obvious positive traits. He was also ambitious, which for someone who controlled and directed a vast merchant empire was not a bad thing. It kept him always striving for more, and as he was also a generous man, he liked it best when his ambitions profited both himself and his many clients throughout their stellar system. And because he was no fool, he generally had a good sense of what was possible and what was not.

Generally.

For like any mortal creature, Koan Rii also had flaws, though he seldom acknowledged them as such. His impatience, for instance, he saw as a strong drive to keep improving and building his business rather than let it stagnate in mediocrity as some of his competitors would. And what other people called arrogance...! Why, what was arrogant about a man who was honest with himself and others about his abilities, his influence, his wealth? Only fools and cowards held back from doing all they could when opportunity presented itself, and being neither, Koan Rii always seized opportunity with both hands and didn't let go until he'd gotten everything he wanted from it.

Tenacity was certainly a common trait among his people, the Glaupeks, and with excellent reason. Over ten thousand years ago, when the Ayalthans had developed the means to send probes to other worlds to study them more closely but had not yet contacted them directly, Glaupek had been a lush and fertile world of green and blue, possessed of wide, sparkling seas and abundant with life of all kinds. The dominant human inhabitants — tall and strong, with skin ranging from fair to deep bronze and thick hair of various colors, unlike the smaller, slender, blue-skinned, and bald Ayalthans — had already built many civilizations and empires, which rose and collapsed and rose again in an almost cyclical fashion. Shortly after the Ayalthans had begun to observe them, the largest and most powerful of Glaupek's existing empires vied for total control of their world, and the war that had erupted between them had been hideous, so terrible that it very nearly destroyed all life on Glaupek.

But some had survived. A group of people who had opposed the warlike empires and wanted to live in peace saw the dreadful war that was coming, and had prepared for it. After the warring factions had decimated each other and much of the planet, this group, which had gone deep into hiding, came out and began the difficult process of rebuilding their ravaged world, now reduced to a desert of browns and gold. They very nearly failed, as survival alone was barely possible. In the end, though they could not restore their planet to its former abundant fertility and lost much of the scientific knowledge and technology they had once known, they managed to find ways to eke out the means to survive, and begin to rebuild a much more primitive civilization on their harsh new world.

It was at that point that they first met the Ayalthans. The blue people were able to tell that the battle the Glaupeks were fighting to restore their world was ultimately doomed; even though it was marginally habitable, the planet's now arid conditions were so harsh, its people were too vulnerable to its hot and dry conditions. They would all certainly die long before their world could be tamed again. The Ayalthans offered to help them relocate to one of their system's other, more agreeable planets until theirs could be restored by terraforming. The process would take the better part of a century, but in the end, it would give them back their world in all its original lush glory.

But the Glaupek survivors refused to leave, claiming that if they could not find a way to live on their ravaged world and reclaim it, then it was just payment for what their kind had done to it, the planet exacting its price from the people who had destroyed it. So the Ayalthan geneticists stepped in and offered to assist them in strengthening themselves so that they could at least survive the harshness of their world and work to restore it on their own. That was help of a kind which the Glaupeks were willing to accept, and so the work of enhancing their physical attributes began. The original plan was to give the struggling Glaupeks greater strength and stamina and toughness to better tolerate and survive the punishing environs, and in that, they succeeded.

But after that project was completed, nature itself took a hand, further evolving the people in ways that went significantly beyond the original designs of the Ayalthan scientists. The powers the Glaupeks developed over the following centuries not only allowed them to sustain their lives and protect them from all but the most dreadful of cataclysms and certain extremely rare diseases, but gave them additional superhuman abilities to help them fight against the harshness of their now desert world. Even so, they were not immortal; they had weaknesses and a definitely limited lifespan, and they each learned to make the best of the world around them in the time they were given.

During those years, the people of the two worlds became good friends, and trade developed between them. Glaupek was rich in minerals and metals that Ayalthis had in scarce supply, and Ayalthis was extremely fertile, abundant in organic foods and materials and precious water, and far more technologically advanced. The Ayalthans became fascinated by the unexpected powers the Glaupeks soon took for granted, and learned everything they could about how and why they developed and how they worked, while the less scientifically inclined Glaupeks were fascinated by the Ayalthan technology, and the range of devices they had developed that could do things even the almost godlike Glaupeks could not.

Traveling beyond the confines of their own world, for instance, was something they could not do unaided, since powerful and invulnerable though they were in many ways, the Glaupeks still required air to breathe and food to eat, and their muscles needed the opposing presence of gravity to work properly, much more than the comparatively frail looking Ayalthans. Though impervious to heat and cold and impacts that would kill other peoples, if they attempted to fly outside an area of sufficient gravity, their powerful muscles would cease to work; thus, their hearts stopped and their lungs could not take in enough oxygen. Though they were capable of defying it, the Glaupeks could not live without gravity. The Ayalthans, however, knew how to create small fields of artificial gravity, and the ships they had developed to study their own system allowed the Glaupeks to leave their world and survive. In time, they became a great race of merchants, and Koan Rii was but one of a long line of powerful and successful tradesmen.

Most of the Glaupeks were content with the life they had carved out of the shattered remains of their world, and the status they held throughout the system as the providers of all manner of goods and services. But Koan, being intelligent and ambitious and a good friend of the current Ayalthan ambassador — a man who was also a very respected astrophysicist and design engineer, Varaan Thejhan — had other dreams.

"It can't be done," Varaan told his host over a mid-day meal at the Rii estate one fine, if typically hot and sunny, afternoon. As Koan was the current elected head of the Merchant's Council, Glaupek's ruling body, Varaan spent a considerable amount of time with the man, either in various negotiations or discussing matters that would benefit both their worlds, and all their system. They were an odd-looking pair to local eyes, as the blue ambassador was smaller and more slender than Koan's wife, Lethai; the broad-chested, golden-haired merchant's shoulder stood higher than the top of Varaan's big head. But neither man was bothered by this. Varaan was sharp-witted, invariably good-natured, and extremely intelligent, traits Koan appreciated, while Koan was outgoing, generous, and always looking to learn, qualities Varaan liked. What they admired in each other usually more than compensated for their individual failings, so theirs was most often a mutually profitable relationship.

Save for those times when their less sterling qualities came into conflict. Today, the less-than-noble trait in question was the same one: obstinacy. The mulish look on Koan's square-jawed, chiseled-featured face showed it, as did the snap in his blue eyes. "I've heard this same thing for years," he retorted, not angrily but definitely with some irritation over the fact. "And it seems to me that this is nothing more than... I hesitate to say cowardice, but I'd say it's coming perilously close!"

"It's caution, not cowardice," the scientist/ambassador insisted, his tone cheerful but also firm, a pleasant if adamant expression on his longer, more elegant face. There was no irritated spark in his oddly blue-green eyes, but the brightness in them was like the hard glitter of a diamond. "The Interstellar Activities Committee is quite well aware of your ruling council's desire to expand trade routes to the other inhabited and potentially friendly systems we've discovered via our probes and scout ships. But while we can build a ship sufficiently large to carry enough cargo to make the trip possible, it's the engine we have yet to perfect. The kind of subspace hyperdrive we use on the one and two person exploratory vessels is difficult to manufacture, quite hideously expensive in all aspects — which is why we have only the six scout ships — and simply not suitable for moving so much mass. The drive would need to be as big as the ship, and when the mass of the cargo is added, it would need to be even bigger. It becomes a losing proposition very quickly, Koan, you know that. You studied under some of the best of our astrophysical engineers and theorists. Our current form of hyperdrive isn't the right kind to achieve what you want, but we _are _working on an alternative."

Koan snorted. "At the pace of a hibernating sand snail," he remarked. "Doesn't it bother you at all to know that you have a solution right in your hands, but you're being stopped from using it by over-cautious old men with some high-flown academic, intellectual notions of what constitutes the right time?"

Varaan's shrug was elegant. "No, not really. Yes, the concepts and designs behind the wormhole drive are mine, but because they're mine, I know just how many details need to be completely investigated and perfected before it can be put into actual use. You know how some negotiations can't be hurried without having the entire process collapse and destroy itself. Consider this as a kind of negotiation, one with the laws of physics. All the conditions, large and small, must be met first, or it simply won't work."

"Even the most delicate negotiations have ways to be... encouraged to move more quickly," Koan pointed out most knowledgeably.

Varaan chuckled at the man's sly remark. "Science generally doesn't take well to shortcuts, my friend, and what seem to be loopholes in the laws of nature have a way of coming back and ruining all your hard work if you try to exploit them."

The merchant frowned for a moment, frustrated, then abruptly grinned, his white teeth flashing bright in the strong afternoon sunlight. "Well, you can't blame a person for trying," he laughed. "But seriously, how long do you think it _will _be before we can begin to plan to open new trade routes to worlds outside this one system?"

The ambassador sighed, his own smile crooked. "I always think it will be sooner than it often turns out to be. So factoring that in, I would have to estimate... another forty or fifty years, by Glaupek's calendar."

Koan's shock was abrupt as his grin. "Forty _years?_ By all that's holy, I'll be an old man by then — and Zan will be older than I am now!"

The mention of the merchant's son, who was just over a month old by Glaupek time, piqued Varaan's interest. "Ah, that's right, you and Lethai were blessed with a little one recently. My wife can't talk of anything else since he was born, you know. We're planning to have a child of our own after my term here as ambassador ends next year, and Ephles wants to be as prepared for motherhood as she can be. She'll have several million questions for Lethai the next time they meet, no doubt."

Koan nodded, accepting the momentary diversion from his target topic. "They've been talking over the comm almost constantly, these last few weeks, but I'm sure there are at least a few thousand questions that haven't been asked, or answered."

Varaan's cheeks purpled faintly in embarrassment. "I'm sorry if she's been a nuisance, but her concern isn't without cause. My brother and his wife are expecting a son by the end of our year, and it seems it won't be an easy term."

The merchant was sympathetic. "I've heard that. She's carrying a... what was it called? Nato—something."

_"Natoshi'ana,"_ the blue man provided. "A Great One, some call it. Yes, very few of them ever survive full-term, and most who do die within the first three days. A terribly tragic probability to have hanging over your head during such an important time. But Kyrel is convinced their son will live — and you know, if she's right, it could make a great difference in that time projection. If Mykaal does survive and has particular gifts or even interests in any of the sciences, he could probably take on this project and finish it much more quickly than all of us who've been working on it for years. The Great Ones have always effected some change that profoundly alters the future of our world, and making interstellar travel and commerce possible on a broad scale...! I'd call that a profound change, wouldn't you?"

The possibility brought a different kind of spark to Koan's eyes, one of eager hope. "Yes, I would. If these Great Ones are that talented, would one be able to make such discoveries as a child?"

Varaan considered the question while he sipped his drink, a chilled pale fruit juice imported from Cobin and much loved by the Glaupek. "I couldn't say for certain," he replied at length. "I'm not as familiar with the history of the _Natoshi'ana _as, say, my wife might be; she's the historian in our family. But from what I do know of them, with proper instruction and guidance, some did achieve remarkable things when they were still quite young, as little as ten or twenty of our years."

The spark in Koan's blue eyes went out like a tiny flame in a wet storm wind. "That's still at least another decade of waiting — _if _the boy is interested, and _if _he lives in the first place! Is there _nothing _that can be done _now?"_

"Now?" Varaan stroked the narrow black goatee that was his only facial hair, other than his expressive eyebrows. "Obviously, not this very second, and within even as little as ten years, no. Why the hurry? From all my talks with your people, there's no danger of your trading concerns oversaturating our system for at least another hundred years, more likely two. Is competition between your merchant Houses beginning to cause friction?"

The blond head shook after a brief hesitation. "No, but... it's because of Zan. When he was born, I began to evaluate all my assets and holdings, what I would have to pass on to him when my time comes."

The Ayalthan chuckled as he glanced around the lush, well-appointed glassed-in garden that was one of the myriad amenities on Koan's opulent and huge estate. Given Glaupek's harsh and arid climate, such conservatories were incredibly difficult and expensive to maintain, and the Rii estate boasted seven, of which this was the smallest. "I didn't know you were so close to bankruptcy, Koan," he joked. "Or so near to death. Are you expecting that all of this will be gone by the time your one-month-old son reaches adulthood?" A broad wave of his long-fingered hands indicated everything around them and the wealth that had made it possible.

Koan had the good grace to look mildly sheepish. "No, of course not. But is it wrong for a father to want more for his children? What I have won't be exhausted before Zan becomes a man, but I hope to still be alive and healthy then. Will it be enough for me to share with any family he may start, as well as those of the siblings who may come after him? Oh, certainly, in wealth alone, there's more than enough," he amended when Varaan opened his mouth to make that observation. "But by then, new trade won't be as easy to come by. And _that _is when friction will begin, since ours isn't the only merchant House growing with new children being born. If our history repeats itself and tempers flare when our people begin to believe the only way to ensure the prosperity of their House is to eliminate others, the war that might begin among us may spread beyond Glaupek and destroy the entire system. We nearly turned our own world into a burned out cinder once, and that was before we had these great powers your people and nature gave us to survive here. They could well be the means to the end of all life in this system if we do nothing to prevent it while there is still time."

It was a very reasonable and insightful explanation. It was also only partially true. Koan had no malicious intent, but he knew very well that the situation among his people was nowhere near as dire as he painted it, and that his desires for his son's future was really only a catalyst for his personal ambitions. All his life, Koan had been first: the first child in his family, the first son, even the first grandchild of all his parents' parents, the first member of the House of Rii to study under Ayalthan tutors long and hard enough to earn his mastery in several fields, the first to open trade routes into some of the regions of Batuu where the fear of aliens had kept out anyone not of their world for millennia. He was the first member of his House to be elected to the leadership of the Merchant's Council, the first to have done many other, lesser things that while not important in and of themselves were further proof that Koan was simply the first, the best of all his people.

That was how he viewed matters, and why deep down, he was desperate to be the first merchant of any House on Glaupek to open trade to new markets in a whole new stellar system. He wanted his House to be the biggest and the best so that he would be the first of all his people to have truly earned the title that some clients on the other planets called the most eminent of their kind, a merchant prince.

He had known when Varaan Thejhan became the Ayalthan ambassador to Glaupek almost ten years ago that the man was a highly respected astrophysicist and engineer, and that he had been working on designs for an interstellar drive that would make trade with worlds beyond their system possible. He had done everything possible to make the scientist-inventor's acquaintance, and to cultivate a friendship between them in hopes of encouraging him to allow the House of Rii to be the first Glaupeks to benefit from his work.

Koan had been relatively patient about the whole thing — until Lethai became pregnant, and he suddenly felt the future nipping at his heels. He had no wish to ruin the genuine friendship he had carefully cultivated with Varaan, but when the ambassador had recently announced that he would not seek to have his term as ambassador renewed so that he and his wife could return home next year, the matter shifted from one of importance to one of urgency, in Koan's mind.

From what he had been saying just now, it didn't look as if Varaan was at all inclined to press for faster development of his new drive before he left Glaupek, and when he left, Koan could no longer subtly urge him to do so. That dratted Ayalthan belief in destiny and proper times for all things was simply complicating what Koan considered their already overly cautious nature. But he knew, perhaps better than anyone alive, that fortune favors the bold, and he was determined to be the boldest of all.

Varaan, to his relief, accepted his reasoning about not wanting to risk a repetition of Glaupek's notoriously violent past. "I see your point," the blue man said with an understanding nod. "Discord among your people now, with all of you having such incredible powers, could be quite disastrous. But I haven't seen so much as the earliest signs of trouble yet, so I think it's safe to say that there's still time to finish this project in the proper manner. It would be better to try _your_ patience a bit than to need to start over because we rushed to use the drive before everything was correctly built and thoroughly tested. Losing even one life in an accident due to haste is unacceptable."

Koan had expected that answer, even though he would rather have heard another. He sighed and smiled, wistfully. "Of course it is. Ah, well, you can't blame a man for dreaming, can you?"

Knowing of his friend's ambitious nature, Varaan was sympathetic. "No, of course not! If it'll make you feel any better, I can let you have a look at the complete schematics and the results of all the tests we've run so far. You'll see that we _have _made excellent progress, just where we stand at this point, and why more testing is needed."

The light came back to the merchant's eyes. "When?" he asked eagerly. "Soon?"

"Not right away," the ambassador chided with a laugh. "I have a full schedule today, and for most of tomorrow. But since you and Lethai are already coming to visit my home tomorrow evening, if our wives will indulge us for a bit, I could show you some of it then."

Koan snorted. "If we bring Zan, they won't even notice if we left the planet. Lethai loves showing him off, and from all their chatter every day, your lady is just as eager to coo over and coddle him."

The large blue-green eyes rolled heavenward in an amused expression of sorely-tried patience. "Him, and any other baby she sees. Ephles is convinced that interacting with babies and their mothers will teach her everything she could possibly need to know before we have one of our own. What _I've_ learned from it is that everyone's experience is unique because every child is unique, but, if it makes her happy..." He spread his hands in surrender, ever the supportive spouse.

The merchant laughed, a great, booming sound as huge as himself. "Always, whatever makes our ladies happy, we must do to have harmony in our homes! And waiting a day shouldn't overtax my patience, I'm sure. Tomorrow, then."

With that settled, they finished their meal and their conversation, turning it to the Council meeting in several days that was the actual reason for their luncheon today. When they were done and he escorted his guest to the entrance of his home to say his farewells, Koan was in an excellent mood, not because their business had gone well (though it had) but because he now had a more solid plan to use toward making his own ambitions a reality.

Varaan was a good man, a good friend, and a superb scientist, but he was still Ayalthan through and through. When they worked alone, the high emotions of the blue people could make them quite impulsive and apt to act on theories or use their inventions before they were perfected, which was why they always worked in teams, to counterbalance one another and thus prevent such errors of haste or excitement. Even though he was continuing his work on the project from afar, Varaan was still very much a part of the project's team. Koan would never get him sufficiently separated from them to change his mind about speeding up the timetable of this new drive's completion — so the merchant had decided, even without seeing it, that what was needed was a demonstration by someone willing to be bold and take risks, to prove that the drive was ready _now_. He had studied engineering and physics, both theoretical and practical, and unless he simply could not comprehend the designs enough to follow them, he was sure that he could take the schematics and construct his own working version of the new interstellar engine.

Even if it didn't work perfectly, so long as it worked at all it would prove his point: that a thing need not be tested and retested and fine-tuned to absolute perfection in order to be useful. Even with limited ability, something could do considerable good, and the Ayalthans needed to have this shown to them. If what he saw tomorrow was something that he knew he could direct a crew of workers to construct quickly, it would be a simple matter to send Lethai and Zan to pay another visit Varaan's wife during the Council meeting a few days hence. Ephles would dote on the baby, and while she did, Lethai could slip into Varaan's workroom and transmit a copy of his designs back to Koan's private office. And then, with all the training and resources at his command, Koan would certainly need only a few short weeks, maybe a month or two, to prove his point, and to make history.

Yes, he thought with satisfaction, it was _always_ good to be the first.

* * *

><p>"Oh, good lord," Roxanne groaned after letting loose a huge gasp that interrupted her blue hero's energetic storytelling. "I have a sinking feeling that I know <em>exactly <em>where this is going! Wayne's father stole the blueprints for something that was still in lab testing phases, he put together his own version of it, used it in an uncontrolled environment, and..." She couldn't bring herself to say it; she was having a hard enough time even _thinking_ it. Even Minion was speechless, wide-eyed and with his toothy mouth agape in a look of utterly horrified shock.

Megamind nodded, an unexpectedly sad rather than gloating response. "And the rest is history — but not the kind he'd planned to make. The drive my uncle and his associates were working on was intended to create a stable but temporary wormhole that could be used as a direct conduit between two points that were huge distances apart, to cross the gap very quickly. It would be like opening a tunnel between here and, say, Alpha Centauri, one big enough to send a dozen aircraft carriers through at once but so short, it would take only a matter of minutes to go into one end of the tunnel and come out again on the other side. The energy needed would be almost entirely for creating the wormhole; by comparison, only a little would be needed to move the mass of the ships through it, and then to collapse the wormhole after the ships were safely through." He paused. "That didn't sound too professorial, did it?"

His wife patted his knee. "Not until you got to 'professorial,' sweetie. Alpha Centauri's one of the bright stars in the winter sky, right?"

"One of the brightest stars visible from Earth," he confirmed, "and among the closest, though it's still more than four light-years away. There are a number of different ways of essentially 'warping' space to send a physical object across interstellar distances in a tremendously shortened period of time, but they all have limitations. Up to that time, the one hyperdrive our scientists had designed to move objects at super-light speeds could only move very small survey ships or unmanned probes because of mass limits, and even then, when the ship or the probe got where it was going, it would take at least several months for the engine to recharge enough to make the return trip."

Being an astute investigative reporter, Roxanne saw the significance at once. "That wouldn't be very useful for a trader, would it? Especially if the ship couldn't carry much in the way of cargo."

The ex-villain fairly glowed with delight at her quickness. "Exactly! That's why Zan's — Wayne's — father was so impatient. He had dreams of building an interstellar merchant empire, and he was ambitious and arrogant enough to believe that not only were my people being cowards by not rushing things as fast as he wanted, but also to believe that he alone had all the abilities of the entire team of highly skilled scientists and engineers who'd been working on the project for years. Fortune may favor the bold, but sometimes, what seems to be bold is just pure pigheaded selfishness."

"And yet Mr. Wayne isn't like that at all," Minion observed as he digested this part of the tale. "He can be a little stubborn and opinionated, but I don't think he's arrogant enough to take a chance like _that!"_

Megamind shrugged. "Nature versus nurture, I imagine. The Scotts were high-handed and avaricious, but not on the same scale."

Roxanne's sniff rippled the last of the coffee in her cup. "That, and Wayne just isn't _as_ bad as his real father. He's been selfish and pigheaded enough; if he hadn't been, I wouldn't be having that interview with him tomorrow, baring his soul to the world."

She finished her drink and set down the empty cup with a sigh. "And speaking of which, I think that maybe I shouldn't hear any more of Wayne's family's side of this story until after that interview. I want to stay as objective as I can, and that won't be easy if I find out too many things that upset me. I don't want to find myself tempted to ask questions that Wayne couldn't possibly answer. Do you plan to share this with him, too?"

"If it's possible," her husband admitted as he finished his own coffee and grabbed a last pastry from the almost-empty tray before Madeleine and her brainbot helpers moved in to clear away the leftovers and clean the table. "When they recorded the messages and prepared my escape pod, my parents and uncle didn't know that Wayne's parents were going to try to save him, too."

"Really? I — no, wait, don't tell me this now," the reporter said, waving her hands in a common _stop, enough, no more! _signal. "If I hear too much stuff that Wayne doesn't know, I could _seri__ously _mess things up tomorrow, for both him _and _me. I daresay the network brass wouldn't look too kindly on me if I make a train wreck of my first huge exclusive!"

"I think waiting is a good idea," Minion seconded, "_especially _since I have to leave for the parade in about half an hour. But sir, is there some reason Mr. Wayne couldn't use this sleep teacher, too? From things that he's told me, he'd love a chance to learn something like this, to fill in all the things he just can't remember from before his arrival on Earth. Unless you think that it's too skewed to make his people and his parents look bad..."

But Megamind dismissed that with a wave of his cheese Danish as they all got up from the table to let the brainbots work, and to go deal with their various morning ablutions (or in Minion's case, a good brushing of his fake fur and a little polishing of his glass dome and metal parts so that he'd look his best as the parade's grand marshal). "No, it's remarkably even-handed and honest, especially considering that it was done mostly by my parents and my uncle, specifically for me. I doubt that he'd be interested in any of the historical things about our planet — though maybe he would, just to find out more about the part of the galaxy we all came from. The problem might be between the Teacher and him. The tingling one feels when it attaches and activates are literally millions of atomic sized neural interfaces making contact with the student's central nervous system to affect a strong direct input connection to the brain. With Wayne's invulnerable skin, it might not work, and until I'm sure it won't damage the Teacher, I'm not inclined to try."

"That's a fair reason to hesitate," Roxanne allowed as they headed down the corridor to the master suite and Minion's rooms. She caught her husband's hand with the last piece of his pastry and pulled it over for a bite before he could finish it off. He pouted for a moment, then his face quirked into a smile as he surrendered the last bit to her. "Will you mind waiting at least until Minion gets back from the parade before telling us more of things that don't involve Wayne, or will that long a wait pop a few gaskets in that big head of yours?"

"I can wait," Megamind promised as he licked the last traces of icing from his long blue fingers. "What you've both said about me maybe needing a little more time to let all of this settle into my mind might be a better idea than just gushing it out all at once." He chuckled ruefully. "Maybe that'll help me quit accidentally blurting things out like a talking textbook, too. And I do have an errand of my own to take care of while Minion's out."

"Does this have something to do with yesterday's call from Warden Alvarez?" the ichthyoid asked.

His ward nodded. Leo Alvarez, the replacement for the now-retired Warden Thurmer, had been one of the few guards Megamind had been able to tolerate during his many years in the Metro City Prison for the Criminally Gifted. Just before Megamind had turned thirty, Alvarez, who'd been only two years older, had gone back to college to study for a degree in criminal justice so that he might work to correct some of what he considered the more egregious failings of the penal system, especially when it came to improving and fixing the programs that were designed to rehabilitate those inmates who could be, or to more safely and humanely hold those who could not.

Even as a villain, Megamind had secretly applauded the man for wanting to try to take on such issues, though he'd had little confidence that it would make any real difference in the long run. But now that Alvarez was the warden for his former home, the blue hero was willing to do what he could to help the man achieve his goals. It was still a little strange to think of the place as under the direction of anyone but Ralph Thurmer, but Alvarez was younger, determined, and still had enough energy to tackle the job head-on.

"He's managed to squeeze some extra funding from the government to at least do a decent job of refurbishing some of the building's outdated systems," Megamind explained between bites of his pastry. "Replace the furnaces, update the video surveillance equipment and computers, overhaul other vital facilities. Phil DeVries suggested that Hal Stewart might improve his slacker attitude if he was moved in with the general population and encouraged to take on an actual job in the workshops, but Warden Alvarez wants to be sure there's no hidden trace of Wayne's DNA still lingering in his body before he gives approval. I'd told Phil back in August that the monitoring system they'd had built for me would warn them if there was any hint of those powers coming back — not possible, really; if it happened spontaneously, it'd also kill him — but Alvarez asked me to run a check on that system to make sure things are working properly. They haven't done that since I left for good — literally — over three years ago."

Roxanne frowned. "Are you going to have to put up with that jerk while you're there?" She didn't need to clarify the identity of said jerk. "He hates your guts, you know."

Megamind dismissed that with an expressive _pfffft. _"Only because he's an idiot and thinks that I stole you from him, like he ever had a ghost of a chance! No, they know Hal gets more obnoxious than usual whenever he sees me. Phil told the warden to tell him he's getting a sort of time off for good behavior and they're moving him into a normal isolation cell for the day. Frankly, I preferred my special cell, but in regular isolation, he'll get a chance to literally lay in bed all day, so he'll probably love it."

The reporter shuddered. Even though it had been almost three and a half years since Hal had been stripped of the powers that should never have been his and was thrown into prison for the rest of his unnatural life for deliberately decimating the city, Roxanne still had occasional nightmares of that brief but terrible time when he'd attempted to destroy her and all of Metro City, simply because he could.

He'd had no real excuse for it; he'd tried to place the blame for it all on anyone but himself. It was Roxanne's fault for not wanting to be his friend, not his own for treating her like a piece of female flesh he wanted to hit on from the moment he first saw her. It was Megamind's fault for giving him the powers to do what he'd done, never mind that the so-called Evil Overlord had spent months training him to be a selfless hero, not a selfish villain. It was Metro Man's fault for leaving the city high and dry, it was the city's fault for being full of so many stuck up jerks, it was his parents' fault for not giving him everything he wanted when they could barely afford to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table, it was his teachers' fault for not making him study when he didn't want to, or for _making_ him study when he didn't want to...

Yes, Hal had an endless list of excuses, some directly contradictory, all somehow rooted in his basic lack of moral character and his unwillingness to make any effort to gain some sense of genuine decency even when opportunities were handed to him on a silver platter. The most effort he'd ever made in his life had been during his training as Titan, and he'd done that mostly because he'd been on a high, playing with all his cool new powers, and because he saw it as the easy way to get things like popularity and a girl he wanted. Oh, Roxanne understood perfectly well why the new warden wanted him to do something useful with his time in prison and not spend it watching TV and dreaming up even more excuses!

But personally, Roxanne wanted the creep out of her nightmares, permanently. She never again wanted to wake up in a cold sweat or screaming because Hal had invaded her dreams in some horrible way, either cutting people she loved into bits with laser vision or tearing them limb from limb with super-strength, or crushing the life out of them with brute force, beating them to a literal pulp while she was bound up with twisted metal and forced to watch. And she especially wanted to lose the awful dream images of what could have happened if he'd decided to take what she wouldn't give him and forced himself on her...

She swallowed thickly, suddenly gluing herself to her husband's side for reassurance as they entered their bedroom. "Say," she wondered, wincing at the faint quaver in her voice, "do you think that the sleep teacher could work in reverse, and take away things _already_ inside a person's head? Things they'd be _much_ happier never seeing or thinking again?"

For a moment, Megamind drew a blank; then, he understood. "I don't know," he admitted, wrapping one arm around her as they continued across the room, tenderly kissing her forehead. "I imagine such a device is possible, based on the same general concepts. But it couldn't get rid of all the nightmares you have about that moron without taking away all your memories of what actually happened back then. It's remembering what _did _happen that triggers your imagination about things that _didn't."_

She sighed, leaning even further into his embrace. "I figured you'd say something like that, you've really taken to being a superhero."

He smiled wickedly. "Most of the time. Trust me, if Hal _ever _tried to hurt you or even think about hurting you, I'd make a temporary comeback as a villain that'd give _him_ all those nightmares you hate, and more."

Now, she smiled, sinfully enjoying this demonstration of his powerful protectiveness toward her. That alone was enough to make her feel a thousand percent better. "Well, I guess if you can learn to live with the real nightmares from your past, I can learn to live with the imaginary ones from mine. Were you wanting me to go with you to the prison?"

He rolled his eyes as he gave her a final hug, then released her as he headed for the bathroom. "Only if you _really_ want to run the risk of accidentally coming face to face with the source of all those nightmares. Is that your idea of a good time?"

Roxanne grimaced. "No. I think I'd rather go back to bed and catch another hour or two of sleep, to be honest."

"A much better idea," he called back as he shrugged out of his robe and disappeared into the bathroom; the sound of the shower running followed soon after.

The reporter thought of joining him for a moment or two, then decided that she'd let him have the shower all to himself for a change. Not that she didn't enjoy sharing it with him, or the pleasure of what frequently followed, but she hadn't been exaggerating about being tired, and her thoughts were still very wound up with as much of the story of the origins of her alien family-through-marriage as she'd heard thus far.

She returned to their bed — which of course had already been neatly made up by the household brainbots while they'd breakfasted; she'd have to apologize to them later for messing up the bed again. She folded back the covers and stretched out on the open sheets before climbing under them. She stared up at the beautifully textured ceiling while she replayed the images her mind had created to accompany this story of the past on worlds across the galaxy, and when one of the three survivors of that time and place returned from his shower, wrapped in a huge pale blue towel, a question came to her lips.

"I presume that whatever your mother and Minion's came up with to help you survive did work," she said when she heard her husband entering the bedroom. "But wasn't the stress impossible to deal with once they realized what might happen to your world — to your entire solar system?"

"Well, not _impossible," _Megamind corrected while he tried to decide if he should go to the prison in his working outfit or in civvies. "I _am _alive, after all. But more difficult, yes, it was that. Do you think it would be better if I went to the prison dressed as Megamind, Defender of Metrocity, or as Mykaal Thejhan, semi-private citizen?"

Roxanne didn't even pause to consider before answering. "Private citizen. You're doing this as a favor to Phil and the new warden, not as a regular part of your job as a superhero, and you need to make sure the line is clear. That was a huge part of Wayne's problem, he never even bothered to draw a line. You said your people knew your whole system was in trouble about six months before you were born. How far along _was _that? I don't know anything about how your people figured days or months or years, or how long it took for a baby to be born."

Her private hero went to his dresser and started rummaging around for suitable civilian clothing. "It's remarkably similar to Earth's," he said while he tried to pick out appropriate casual attire. "That's part of why my parents chose to send me here, because the circadian rhythms of humans and the length of the days and the year are very close to the same. The cumulative differences are why I get those 'crash and burn' days twice a year, it's just my internal clock resetting itself after being a touch out of sync for too long."

"Fascinating," the reporter said, quite honestly. "So is the gestation period the same, too?"

He found a black casual shirt he liked and tossed it onto the bed, followed by a pair of snug black jeans, and socks and briefs, also black. "Not quite. It took about eleven Earth months from conception to birth, and my mother was about halfway through her term when everyone found out what had happened, not two-thirds."

Roxanne sniffed. "Then I think I'm glad we decided not to have kids of our own. I wouldn't want to get things started and then find out that it'd take two months longer to have the baby. I'd probably be like my mother and some of my cousins, and have morning, afternoon, and evening sickness all through the pregnancy to boot. Wear the blue sweater jacket Wayne gave you last Christmas with that," she added after surveying his clothing choices thus far.

The blue nose wrinkled. "That's not exactly my usual style, too conservative," he pointed out.

"I know, that's the point. It's so _not_ your usual style, no one could possibly think you were there on official business. Besides, it's not _that _bad. Wayne actually managed to pick a style and a color that looks good on you."

Her flattery made him surrender to her wisdom. "I suppose you're right. Better to have them think that I dress like some fashionable nerd when I'm off-duty than to make the mistake of thinking I'm always on. You're very clever, Mrs. Thejhan."

"Thanks." She rolled onto her side to face him while he continued his search through the drawers to find the item she'd suggested. "And speaking of Mrs. Thejhan, I really don't envy your mother. Not because she had such a long pregnancy, that's normal for your people, but because something so horrible came down right while she was trying to keep her stress levels low and her life peaceful, for you."

Megamind paused in his search, and she could hear his soft, sad sigh. "Yes, I know, and I wish I hadn't been such a burden to her at a time like that. She gave up so much for me, just so I'd have a chance to live. I think my uncle deliberately glossed over it in the records, but I suspect she put her own health at serious risk, for me."

Roxanne's eyes widened. "How do you know?"

He was quiet for a bit, then came to sit on the edge of the bed near her. "It was part of a conversation they'd had on the day the vortex was discovered. She'd been arguing with both my father and Minion's parents..."

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><p><em>To be continued...<em>


	4. Crossroads

_Author's Note: While this story keeps rolling along, I felt it only proper to warn those who are following it that in the coming weeks, there may be longer gaps between posts. This isn't due to a lack of desire or interest, but to a very unpleasantly real part of Real Life. Last week, my husband was diagnosed with prostate cancer, and while it was caught very early and his prospects for a complete recovery are very good, he will require surgery within the next few weeks to nip this in the bud. I hope to be able to continue writing and posting, since it can be therapeutic, but I also know that I'm a world-class worry wart, and may fret myself into a totally unproductive tizzy from time to time. So I ask my gentle readers to be patient and bear with me during this time, and if they will to send what kind thoughts and/or prayers they might have to spare our way. My husband and I are both fighters, not quitters, but I have a strong belief in the power of positive loving kindness, the support of friends to help create as positive an outcome as possible. Thanks to all of you for listening, for reading, and reviewing. Now, on with the story!_

* * *

><p>Chapter Four<br>Crossroads

"Kyrel, you can't continue like this! It will _not _help our son one bit if _he_ survives his birth and _you_ don't!"

"Ordinarily, I wouldn't be inclined to agree with your husband when he's nearly shouting in anger, but in this case, I have to make an exception. Eliaan is right, Kyrel. The techniques of diverting a portion of your physical resources to provide extra support to your unborn son were _not _intended to be carried this far!"

Kyrel — who was looking rather more gray than blue today, her normally healthy lavender cheeks faded to a muted mauve and her usually bright green eyes dulled as if by some grimy film — nonetheless had enough of her typical spark to favor Notarr with one of her best scathing glares. She and Toomia had planned to meet with Eliaan and Notarr at the cybernetics facility that afternoon, to see the progress that was being made with a more efficient version of the neural interfaces used by the Potrell to move and guide their android bodies. When Toomia showed up but Kyrel did not, both the fish, her mate, and Kyrel's husband had known that the woman had once again failed to awaken from her midday rest because of overwhelming exhaustion from her determined efforts to will her unborn son to live. As soon as the trio realized that she wasn't coming, they headed straight for the Thejhan house, to help or to chide, whichever seemed most appropriate.

The help hadn't been required, as Kyrel was awake when they arrived, and even though she was clearly less than perfectly fit, she wasn't accepting delivery on the chiding, not even from her own worried spouse. "Males," she snapped as if that said it all, and it was indeed enough to cause the male ichthyoid to recoil a bit in his android body's habitat, green fins flittering. "You may be a fine microbiologist, Notarr, but once a babe has grown to more than an embryo, you're quite beyond your field of expertise!"

It was true, but Notarr was capable of being stubborn given the right reason, and this was good enough. "I knew enough to be of help to Toomia through her own term," he grumbled back. "She tried this, too, diverting so much of her own strength and bodily resources to our younglings that she nearly killed herself, and them as well. You can't afford to do this, Kyrel, not when you still have half your term before you!"

"My mate exaggerates," Toomia said with a roll of her amber eyes, elegant robot arms folded across her chest. "But not excessively," she added when Notarr's gray-green eyes flashed her a look of hurt. She fanned her fins at him in a way that was both apologetic and coquettish before turning to Kyrel with a more stern manner. "You've been following all that we'd determined would be most helpful for your son, and thus far, everything is as it should be. The scan only a few days ago showed that he's growing as he should, even better than we'd expected, and is in no danger of leaving you too soon. And yet you've been using the meditation not to strengthen _both_ of you, but to strengthen him alone. Why? It makes no sense, Kyrel! Are you trying to rush him into an early birth?"

The blue woman looked away at her friend's pointed question, closing her eyes as she laid her hands on her belly, where the presence of her son was now quite visible. "No," she said quietly, accepting the query as justly asked. "I — know he would not fare well, if he comes before his time. But I'm afraid to give him less than all I have to give. If he died because I held back..." She shook her head, attempting to banish the thought.

Eliaan, who had been pacing in frustration, abruptly stopped to go to her side, slipping his long arms around her as he sat beside her on the low couch where she was seated. "Oh, _tsia'le, _you've done so much already, no one can ever say that you've been a less than perfect mother! But Mykaal literally _cannot_ live without you now, and you must_ share_ your strength with him, not merely sacrifice it to him!"

"I know," she murmured. "But... something in me feels that time is pressing. I don't know why, but I have this sense of urgency, as if _not_ doing all I possibly can, even to my own detriment, will..." She shook her head again, frustrated by the words she couldn't seem to find.

Her husband thought he understood, and kissed her gently, soothingly. "We all wish that this could be over and done with, my heart, it's only natural to want to leap past the waiting and the worrying, especially with a son such as ours. But he's doing as well as you predicted, and there's all the time in the world—"

"No!" Though the rest of her seemed gray and pale, the green fire flared in her eyes, not of anger but of anxiety. "That's just it, don't you see? There _isn't_ time!" She sounded utterly certain of it, but also confused, as if she knew why she said it, but didn't understand how she knew.

Eliaan looked perplexed, Notarr strangely thoughtful, but Toomia's golden-brown eyes narrowed with an odd frown. "I know there are only six months left in your term," she said, trying to puzzle out what her friend was trying to say. "But you can't mean that your son must be born this soon or not at all. He could never survive!"

When Kyrel answered with only another shake of her head, Toomia looked to the others for their insight. Notarr hummed softly, a thoughtful sound. "The youngling cannot be born before his time, all of us know this, it's the most common sense there is," he reflected. "But if her little one is restless, he isn't alone. All of our younglings have been skittish, lately; I've seen it in many of them, especially Tori."

"The youngest of both our kinds have always been most sensitive to currents of emotion before we elder folk even notice it," Eliaan observed, a small, pensive frown creasing his brow. "Is Tori with you?"

"Not today," Toomia said, fins flittering in a kind of full-body headshake. "As Notarr said, all the younglings have been restless these past few days, and knowing that Kyrel has been weakening herself — in what now appears to be a strange need to hasten your son's arrival — I didn't think his uneasy mood would help your son's, or hers."

"There's no time," Kyrel said softly, desperately. "The full term is too long, he must come sooner..."

"Why?" Eliaan asked the question, genuinely at a loss. He took her by the shoulders and gently turned her to face him. "We can't see the future, my heart, none of us have that gift, not even the Glaupek with all their incredible powers. What is it that makes you feel such intense urgency?"

"I don't know!" Her voice was a thin wail. "There's nothing logical or rational about it, only emotional. But I feel it in my heart, in my bones, with every breath I take. Something is threatening, and if Mykaal cannot come soon, I fear he will never come at all!"

Her husband was about to point out that he felt no such thing when he stopped himself from saying it. Though all the peoples of Ayalthis had strong emotions, the very young and people in certain hypersensitized conditions — such as pregnant woman — were exceptionally so. They had no ability to predict the future, but they had an uncanny ability to perceive the present, not in the way of seeing actions and events, but in sensing the currents of emotion in more than just those close by. An accident in the city could make the children living nearby upset and restless for hours until things calmed down again. Two years ago, a landslide up in the mountains that had seriously effected one of the tributaries to the Dusiomi River had caused a powerful wave of upset, especially in the children of the Potrell; it had lasted for almost a month, until the damaged settlements had been repaired and the injured properly attended.

Eliaan hadn't seen any children recently, except for Tori, and being extremely occupied with both his wife and his work had kept him out of touch with events beyond his little part of the world. "All of the youngsters have been restless," he echoed his friends' words. "Of both our peoples?"

"That I have seen," Toomia confirmed with a bob of her small body. "For almost a week, now. Something is upsetting them, though I don't know what." Her amber eyes turned to Kyrel. "And it's making the little one inside you restless, too." It wasn't a question.

Kyrel dipped her head in acknowledgment. "I should be calm for him, soothing him, assuring him that all will be well — but how can I if I don't even know why he is troubled? I — I thought that he must be in distress because of me, because my body wasn't being as accepting and supportive of him as he needs. I feared that I might lose him because I'd done something wrong, so I gave him all I could."

"Too much," Eliaan said with a sigh, leaning forward to touch his high forehead to hers for a moment before kissing her brow. "You went too far, _tsia'le, _you can't give Mykaal so much of your strength that you have none left for yourself to continue."

She shivered, suddenly feeling cold both of body and heart. "I know, I see that now," she admitted, not resisting when her spouse drew her close to offer his warmth. "I fear for him more than myself, _tsi'aan. _He isn't yet fully a part of this world, but already the world threatens him! It makes no sense, to kill myself trying to protect him when without me, he will surely die — but why do I keep feeling that time is short, too short? What has happened?" Her green eyes were wide with a mixture of fear, confusion, and defiance, the first leading to the last.

Before anyone could even attempt to answer with so much as a weakly hazarded guess, the house's comm system chimed, the unique sound easily recognizable to all four who heard it. "Varaan?" Notarr identified as Eliaan rose to answer the call at the nearest comm station. "I thought your brother makes a habit to only call at the end of the week, not in the middle, to spare the transmission load on the communications systems between here and Glaupek."

"That's his usual excuse for being lazy," Eliaan confirmed as he strode across the room to the console. He instructed the system to accept the contact, and though the image on the display first showed the emblem for Ayalthan Diplomatic Service as it always did when Varaan called from his home on Glaupek, Eliaan started to speak before the image shifted. "To what do we owe the pleasure of this out of the ordinary call, brother?" he asked, smiling. When the display changed to show that brother's face, his smile faded.

Varaan looked almost as gray-skinned as Kyrel — and worse, his normally cheerful face was haggard; the lines and sunken shadows made it seem as if he had aged several centuries since his last contact, only a few days ago. "I wish it was pleasure that prompted it," he replied, his tone as grave as his expression. "Is Kyrel there with you?"

"And our friends Toomia and Notarr. If this is a matter of business and requires privacy, I can transfer to my study..."

But the elder man shook his head. "No, they'll hear this soon enough, it might be best if they heard it from me and not through some government or scientific announcement that might distort the facts to prevent a panic."

Kyrel heard the last word and felt another shiver that had nothing to do with cold. "Panic? Why would people panic? Varaan, what's happened? Are the Glaupek—"

She had to bite her lip to bite off the inevitable question. It was known throughout their system — in particular to the Ayalthans, who had given them the means to survive a near-dead world — that while the Glaupeks of today were perceived as an amiable people, the competitive aggressiveness they displayed in their work as traders and merchants was a less destructive form of the same native impulses that had led them to the wars that had almost utterly destroyed their own world. Among the most peace-loving of the Ayalthans, there was always a faint thread of fear that the godlike people might someday choose to make war again, among their own kind or against their neighboring worlds.

Either would be tragic, catastrophic, and Kyrel had begun to voice the question that she and her husband and their guests were suddenly thinking. It would make perfect sense if it were true, as the war of an entire world would certainly be a great enough horror to stir up the emotions of their sensitive young, even from several million miles away.

She wasn't sure, therefore, if she was glad or dismayed when Varaan shook his head, aware of the rest of the unfinished question. "No, they haven't started a war. They — ah, I'm surprised you haven't already heard it; Shenaal alerted me to it even before anyone here knew that anything at all had happened."

Eliaan frowned. "What does Kyrel's father have to do with the embassy to Glaupek? He's a director of education, not diplomacy."

"He's also involved with the interplanetary Watch," Notarr pointed out, having been thinking along the same lines as Kyrel, that the Glaupeks were somehow threatening to send war out into their entire system. It was a line of thought he was glad to drop, though the mention of her father stirred another uneasy notion. The Watch tracked the movement of all detectable objects, both natural and manufactured, throughout their system, keeping an eye out for anything like a wayward asteroid or comet that might pose a threat to any of the inhabited worlds. "Have they found some chunk of space debris heading for us that they can't neutralize?" Such a discovery would be as emotionally upsetting as war.

But again, Varaan shook his head, sadly. "I wish they had. They've discovered what appears to be a wormhole in the asteroid belt inside the orbit of Cobin."

Toomia, the engineer in her family, looked puzzled. "Isn't that a good thing? I thought you and your design team were trying to find a way to artificially create stable wormholes for interstellar travel. Having a permanent natural one nearby could be very useful, for studying purposes, if nothing else."

"This one isn't natural," he admitted reluctantly. "If it were, we would've discovered it ages ago. It shows all the traits of being created by the drive my team and I have been working on — that we knew wasn't ready to be used anywhere but in small-scale laboratory containment simulations."

"Maybe one of your associates didn't agree with that assessment," Notarr pointed out. "There's always someone on a project team who gets excited and impatient when they feel things are coming close to being finished. If they managed to do it outside the lab, maybe they were right..."

"It wasn't any of them. Even if we didn't all agree that the drive isn't ready to be used, none of us would have been foolish enough to try to do it inside the gravity well of star — and certainly _not _so close to the star itself!" From the way he snapped out that final phrase, it was difficult to tell if he was angry or mortified or something else entirely.

Eliaan's brow pinched between his amber-brown eyes, tight with worry and concern. "Varaan, _you _wouldn't have done this..." He tried to sound certain, but wasn't fully able to. His brother had been away among the Glaupek for so many years, and their more aggressively ambitious natures sometimes had unfortunate effects on Ayalthan impulsiveness.

The elder brother sighed heavily. "No, I didn't, but I might as well have, fool that I was."

Toomia and Notarr were perplexed; Kyrel was silent, her already pale face gone ashen from what her own mind was piecing together. "I'm not sure I understand why this is so upsetting," Notarr admitted, since of all of them, he was the least educated in this kind of science. "Why is the wormhole being near to the sun a problem?"

Eliaan provided the answer. "Because in a way, they're gravitational fields of their own, a very intense well that might be described as a two-ended black hole. Stabilized, it can be transversible, meaning you could pass a ship through it and come out the other end almost instantly, on the opposite side of the galaxy. But opening it close to another powerful source of gravity, like a star, can seriously affect its stability."

He turned back to his brother. "And if that's the case, this one should collapse and disappear very quickly, am I right?"

"Should," Varaan confirmed. "But it isn't. It's been there for almost a week, and we only noticed it now because theWatch spotted it on a routine scan of the system. Its presence has already begun to affect the natural course of Cobin, and the effect isn't weakening or shrinking, it's getting larger and stronger."

All of those listening were shocked. "It isn't supposed to do that, from what you've told me of the drive," Toomia was first to finally say. "Are you sure that's what's happening?"

The ambassador/engineer grimaced. "Positive. There was a measurable difference in both size and strength over the course of a single day, and that was calculated from a distance. We've sent all our scout ships closer to it to get as much detailed information as we can. Thus far, we know two things, other than the fact that it isn't a natural phenomenon: it isn't being stabilized the way it was designed to be, with the use of exotic matter; the person who constructed the engine apparently didn't understand that part of the design notations, or thought the effect could be successfully achieved without it. And lacking that, the anomaly appears to be using other energy sources close to it to remain in existence. Specifically, it seems to be drawing energy from its interaction with solar gravity, and is attracting mass from nearby sources. The asteroids in its vicinity are already gone, and it's exerting a pull on the nearest planetary bodies — two of the three inner worlds, and Cobin."

His listeners gasped. "Is Cobin in danger?" Eliaan asked, the cold knot in his belly making him suddenly unsure that he wanted to hear the answer.

Varaan did not lie. "Yes. _All _of us are in danger, Eliaan, which is why all of our survey ships have been sent to investigate more thoroughly; they're the fastest and most capable vessels we have, few though they are. Long range analysis, however, has showed a number of distressing factors: this is _not _a transversible wormhole. What matter and energy go in do not pass through to another point in normal space. Like fuel in an engine, they're being consumed to continue and increase its output. The more that goes in, the larger and faster it will grow. Whatever was done in an attempt to form the wormhole without the stabilizing exotic matter turned it from something potentially beneficial to something with the potential for monstrous destruction. And where it opened — in the inner asteroid belt with Cobin and Lihaar so nearby in their yearly orbits — was like planting seedlings of slaughterweed into fertile pasture. It will spread like the weed, and consume and kill all it touches."

The four listeners were silent as they absorbed this horrifying news. Slaughterweed was one of the worst results to have arisen from the wars that had almost destroyed Glaupek. Originally grown and bred as a biological weapon, the weed could grow almost anywhere, both on land or underwater and in a wide range of temperatures. It could take root in the poorest soil, but if it somehow found its way into particularly fertile environs, it could grow so rapidly, it would turn a lush forest or thick bed of sea plants into a sterile wasteland in a matter of days. It was so poisonous, even the antidote for it could not be given quickly enough to prevent it from causing death if eaten, and no species on Glaupek had been immune to it.

Its tiny and dustlike seeds, seemingly indestructible, had remained in the planet's atmosphere for centuries following the end of the war, thwarting the survivors' efforts to reclaim their world. The invulnerability the Ayalthan scientists had given the surviving Glaupek had largely been intended to combat this pernicious remnant of their past, which had finally been fully eradicated less than a century ago. The legacy of slaughterweed lived on throughout the system as a bitter metaphor for destructive power that could not be controlled.

Toomia's eyes were wide as she attempted to come to grips with this information, which very adequately explained the distress of their children. Even from so far away, such a cataclysm — and the horror of those who discovered it — could surely be felt by the sensitive younglings. "Can it be stopped — or at least escaped?"

Varaan's expression was as miserable as his deep sigh. "Stopped? Possibly. It was an artificially created effect, so we might be able to find the means of artificially reversing it, to force it to collapse. But if we can't stop it and the hole continues to grow and strengthen, escape is impossible. It will expand until it has expended all available fuel, which means until it reaches the outermost limits of our system. If its rate of growth can't be slowed, none of the ships we have for intrasystem travel could move quickly enough to go beyond its reach before..." He didn't want to say the next words; he didn't need to. Before the wormhole caught and swallowed them whole.

For a minute that seemed to last forever, the room was silent. The subject of using the hyperdrive capable survey ships wasn't even raised, since they were needed to work on the attempt to stop the impending disaster, and at best could only take a dozen people to safety, anyway. When the silence was finally broken by Kyrel, it was not to ask how this had happened, who could have done such a thing or why, nor even even how it could be stopped. There was only one question in her mind. "How long?"

There was no need for her to elaborate, nor any need for Varaan to ask what she meant. How long before the wormhole destroyed Cobin and all the life on it. How long before it reached farther, grew hungrier, consumed their sun itself. How long before the beast would be satisfied, how long before it would die.

How long before _they _would die.

Her bondbrother took a deep breath, summoning the strength to answer. "Six months," he said at last, hating the words even as he spoke them. "Seven, at most."

Kyrel closed her eyes, an expression of deep pain. Just enough time for Mykaal to finish his struggle to live. Just enough time for him to be born, to win his fight — and then to lose.

* * *

><p>Although it was a sunny late November day in Metro City — for which everyone involved in the city's holiday parade was thankful — the winds were brisk from the north, and cold. Megamind had more than half-wished he could just stay home with Roxanne, even if they spent most of their time warm and snuggling in bed so he wouldn't be tempted to tell her any more of the complex tale of what had happened to his homeworld until after her interview with Wayne. But he had promised Warden Thurmer that he would do this favor for the rookie Warden Alvarez, and it wasn't really that difficult a task.<p>

Clever though the engineers who had made the scanning system for the ultra-secure isolation cell had been, he'd had a chance to see the schematics since his reform, and their designs really were child's play to the blue genius. Even if the thing needed a major overhaul, it wouldn't take more than a couple of hours, and he could then return to the comfort of home and the prospect of hearing an excited Minion tell them all about the fun he'd had, being grand marshal of the parade. He wasn't actually that interested in hearing the details of the parade itself, but he knew that it would make his old friend happy to gush about it, so the least he could do would be to smile pleasantly and listen.

It was the walk from the parking lot he hated. The prison was still out in the middle of flat, empty farmlands, and all but a very few of the parking spaces were a good hike across an equally flat and unsheltered expanse of asphalt. He was pleased by the opportunity to drive Roxanne's custom Corvette — she'd told her husband to take it rather than a hoverbike, since Minion needed the Invisible Car and the 'Vette's warm interior was much more comfortable on blustery pre-winter days — but not by the prospect of that hike. It was to his considerably delighted relief, therefore, when the guards at the gatehouse directed him to use the smaller, closer lot reserved for the administration staff and VIPs. Not that he felt he didn't deserve to be considered a VIP, but after so many years of coming here as a Very Indignant Prisoner, it was nice to know that the new man in charge considered him an important dignitary.

"We know that the reason the state's letting us do the repairs and upgrades in spite of the budget crunch is because you made donations of your own," Warden Alvarez told him as they headed from his office to the wing with the specially monitored isolation unit. Alvarez was a handsome Hispanic man of about forty with a distinguished touch of gray showing in this thick black hair, but he was only and inch or two taller than Megamind. This had always made the former villain much more comfortable with him than he might have been — that and the fact that since he'd taken over as the head of the facility, Alvarez never felt a need to send guards to escort their blue guest around the prison. Warden Thurmer had always insisted on an escort, even after he'd given up his villainous ways, though Megamind _did _know that the older man had done it as a purely precautionary measure. During his first year or so as a hero, there had been a lot of bad blood between him and some of the more hardened inmates who considered him the worst sort of traitor, and Thurmer had only wanted to make sure that the city didn't lose two Defenders inside of a year.

Megamind cleared his throat a bit self-consciously at the new warden's astute deduction. "Well," he half-coughed, "it may be a prison, but it's also where I grew up. And a couple of months ago, I found out that it wasn't as bad a place as I'd always thought. The walls and guards and the razor-wire and motion tracking and infrared surveillance keep the prisoners in, but for me, there were even worse things that they kept _out. _It just didn't feel right to let the place fall to pieces because some idiots in the government aren't willing to properly tax the wealthy, so as one of the people not being taxed..." He shrugged.

Alvarez smiled broadly, white teeth flashing below his neatly-trimmed dark mustache. "You figured you could make up for some of the inequity. Oh, I'm not arguing, I'm grateful. Having proper facilities helps make my job easier. If the inmates don't feel like they're animals in a badly run pound, some of them might actually consider the idea of cleaning up their acts. We still need to be clear about the fact that they're here to serve time for crimes they chose to commit, but you can't motivate a person who _knows _he's being mistreated."

"It's difficult," the ex-villain had to agree, since he knew firsthand just how hard it had been for him to make that change while he still felt completely unwanted by the world. "The love of a good woman is a wonderful incentive to change, but I know how impossibly lucky I was to get that! Are you and Phil DeVries really serious about rehabilitating Hal Stewart?"

The warden waggled one hand. "Phil is; he thinks it could work if we can just get him off his butt and into some useful activities. I'm not as convinced, I've seen his type before, lazy slackers who want everything in life done for them and served up on a silver platter. If he hadn't accidentally been given superpowers, he would've kept on the way he'd been going, and would've either amounted to nothing, or he would've started stalking people like Ms Ritchi — ah, excuse me, it's Mrs. Thejhan now, isn't it?"

"Off camera," Megamind confirmed. "But it's all right, I don't mind that people still call her that, just so long as they remember that she _is _married, and to whom!"

Alvarez chuckled at his emphatic reminder. "If they don't, I'm sure you'll find ways to remind them. Anyway, Stewart showed just what kind of a person he is when he grossly misused the powers he was given. Even as a super, his definition of good was only what he thought was good for _him."_

The alien rolled his eyes in expressive disgust as they reached the short corridor to the isolation chamber, where two repair techs from the DOC were waiting. "And we worked so _hard _with him — a total waste of time and effort! But you don't need to worry about those powers coming back, Warden. Getting Metro Man's DNA to fuse with an Earth human's was a difficult proposition to begin with. I doubt that the same person could tolerate a second deliberate invasion on their system, and a spontaneous recurrence isn't possible."

The new warden sighed. "I know, I've heard the run down from half a dozen different genetic specialists who've been in to examine him. But making sure this monitoring system is running at peak efficiency would make me feel better if I do decide to let him into the general inmate population during the day."

Megamind couldn't blame the man for wanting to feel reassured, though he'd rather hoped his word alone might be enough. Oh, well, with the extra technicians on hand to help run the diagnostics and make any minor repairs, the whole thing would go very quickly.

It amused him to see how surprised the two techs were to see him in ordinary civilian clothing rather than his working garb, but it was also gratifying. They obviously knew who he was, but also that he wasn't "on" as a superhero, just another engineer in to do a job, albeit an exceptionally talented and brilliant engineer, if he did say so himself. Roxanne had been right about that, and he would have to find some way to thank her for her insight when he got home.

On the whole, the work went quite pleasantly. Whoever had picked these techs to work with him hadn't been a fool; they'd selected bright people capable of taking directions and implementing them correctly and quickly without questioning Megamind's expertise or authority. While some of the longer diagnostics were running — at a snail's pace, the blue hero felt; he really wished he'd thought to bring along one of his better helper brainbots, they were capable of running such tests much faster than even this high-tech but rather ordinary equipment — the two men were quite amiable, talking with him almost as if he was just another ordinary technogeeky guy. How's married life treating you, any plans for the holiday, how's the fish doing, heard he was in the parade...

Megamind found it strange and yet satisfying, strange because he was used to being a flashy center of attention, satisfying because it gave him a rare feeling of belonging, of fitting in, of being _normal. _He didn't think he'd ever want to be thought of as so ordinary that he lost the good feelings that came with being unique and special, but in its proper proportion, it was quite enjoyable. Yes, he'd have to thank Roxanne for this, doubly. What a wonderful and intelligent woman!

They'd gone through the first round of checks, had made a number of minor repairs and adjustments which the tests indicated were necessary, and had almost finished the second round, testing the tweaks and repairs, when one of the techs, Norm, grunted rather than give the other tech, Lee, an answer to his question about tomorrow's game against the Packers. "I'm getting a _cannot complete request _error in module three," he reported grumpily. "It needed a memory chip replaced, but I know I did it right, and the new chip's good, I tested all of 'em yesterday to make sure we wouldn't have problems with 'em today. And the electrical probes show all the circuits are good, too."

After he'd glanced ever so briefly at the portion of the console that had Norm irritated, Megamind couldn't help but smirk. "That's because you're trying to start the engine with an empty tank," he said drolly.

The heavier of the two techs blinked and gave a "Huh?" that showed not one bit of his years of college education.

Megamind didn't bother to look up from the part of the main panel he was sealing up after running his own successful diagnostics on the most complex of the needed repairs, which included a few adjustments of his own to improve the system's overall performance by at least a factor of ten. "That's the synaptic activity scanner you're trying to check. It can't complete a system test without someone in the isolation cell for it to scan. Granted, it's probably used to seeing activity on the order of a gnat, these days, but..." He shrugged eloquently.

Norm swatted his own cheek. "Well, duh," he scolded himself. "I guess I'm just a nuts and bolts kind of guy, fine with the hardware but not so good with the fancy software. Hey, Lee, you wanna step in there for a sec and give this thing a gnat to look for?"

"Ha, ha," the balding tech said without humor, also closing up his part of the system now that it had been checked, adjusted, and tested. "I'm not the one who didn't understand what I was working on."

"I'll do it," Alvarez volunteered before the byplay could degenerate into a stupid argument. Megamind had to give this new warden credit for having guts and being willing to do things some of the guards were uneasy with. Back in his old evil days, he knew that some of the guards were reluctant to enter this cell because _he _was in it, and they didn't want to be counted among those who had been tricked by the villain, allowing him to escape. Since then, however, he'd found that a few of the guards were afraid of the cell itself, fearing that its fancy gadgetry could somehow control their minds or suck out their brains. Megamind had no doubt that the original designers had _wanted _to be able to control him, but the technology was far beyond the best of them. At best, this was nothing but an elaborate medical scanner, not a brain reprogrammer.

He watched when Alvarez stepped into the chamber and Norm reactivated the sensors. When the appropriate displays and readouts came alive, they showed flickers of light inside the outline of a head and lines of data text below, indicating the amount and regions of activity within the warden's brain along with the system's descriptions of that activity and its potential meaning. Norm shrugged. "Well, it's working, though I have no idea what it's trying to tell me, to be perfectly honest."

The blue genius smiled crookedly. "It's telling you that he's awake, has slightly higher than average brain activity, and is probably plotting to stop at the grocery store on the way home to order his Thanksgiving turkey. Am I right, Warden?"

Alvarez laughed as he stepped back out of the round room. "Pretty close, though it's the pumpkin pie I had in mind, not the bird. I presume you were just joking about that part."

"Mostly. To someone familiar with the various regions of the brain and their general functions and processes, an educated guess could be made as to the _type _of thoughts the activity might indicate. The designers were trying to have an advanced warning system for anything I might be plotting, to keep a step ahead of me." His grin was mischievously wicked. "Of course, I was always thinking at least five steps ahead of _them, _so it never really worked the way they wanted."

The warden grinned back. "I remember that, it frustrated the hell out of the designers and the people who'd been counting on it to be worth what they'd spent on it. With Stewart, it might be useful enough, _if _he stays the way he is now. If it's not too much to ask, would you mind stepping inside to let it scan you? I just want to make sure it _can _pick up higher levels of activity properly, like it's supposed to."

Megamind wrinkled his nose as he glanced into the chamber. "Has it been fumigated?" he asked, more concerned with assault on his sensitive nose that he might get from the stench of Hal's slovenly habits than the fact that he had spent too much of his life in this room.

"Standard operating procedure," Alvarez assured him. "We moved him out before dawn and the clean up crew went in and did a thorough job. I swear Stewart would never bathe if we didn't force him into the showers at least twice a week."

The reformed villain laughed. "Yes, Warden Thurmer was always glad that I preferred to be _fastiDEEus _when it came to personal hygiene. From what I saw — or smelled — of his living quarters, Stewart _had _no sense of smell." He leaned into the cell just enough to take a sniff, and approved of the janitor's work. There was still a bit of a bleachy scent in the air, but not overpowering and certainly preferable to Hal's personal odors, which he'd come to associate with a number of unpleasant emotions, most notably monumental failure.

When he gave the warden a nod to indicate his willingness to cooperate with the test — after all, who better to provide an example of superior neural activity? — Lee, who had finished his work and had moved to join Norm at the console, said, "Give us a minute to shut down the system before you go in. That way we'll have a completely clean start, no risk of the previous reading having an effect on it."

Megamind shrugged his acquiescence but hardly thought it necessary. "Unless it's an extremely primitive and shoddy piece of construction, there shouldn't be any issue with residuals. The system is primarily designed to pick up neuronal activity in the various layers of the cerebral cortex, it senses the biochemical and bioelectric action of the major neurotransmitters, gamma-aminobutyric — oh, never mind, too much information," he said with rapid dismissive hand-flaps as he caught himself about to launch into another spate of unintentional technobabble. Really, had something opened up a spigot in his brain, allowing just about anything he'd ever read or heard to come spilling out of his mouth at the most ridiculous and random moments? "Whenever you're ready."

After a few more button-pushes and flicks of switches, Norm gave him a thumbs-up. The blue hero hesitated only a moment before stepping inside the circular room. It felt a little strange, he had to admit, coming in here of his own volition. The last time he'd done that had been well over three years before, when he'd given up, believing that he could not defeat the "hero" he'd created who had turned more evil than he himself had ever truly dreamed of being. And yet, this was no longer his "home"; it belonged to the amoral cretin who had been given a chance to choose a noble, worthwhile future, and had instead thrown it away because he was plain selfish and lazy. Megamind snorted as he glanced around the room with its silly paintings and slogans on the walls. Perhaps happy thoughts _could _make happy people, but a person had to bother _thinking _for that rationale to work.

"Okay, the system's coming on line," Lee called into the chamber, warning the occupant in case there might be some unpleasant side effect to the activation. Megamind knew it wasn't so, and thus wasn't distracted from his study of something on the walls that had caught his eye. Had Hal tried to scratch some graphic obscenity onto one of the pink kittens? That certainly _looked_ like a—

"Jesus Christ!" Lee's voice came ripping through the open doorway. "What'd you _do,_ Norm?"

"Nothing!" the other tech snapped back, his voice in a panic. "_You _turned on the power, not me!"

"It's _not _supposed to do _that...!"_

"I know! But — holy—!"

_That _was suddenly followed by a loud crackling noise, a flash of lights from the observation station, and the powerful, distinctive stench of burned circuits and wires. Warden Alvarez barked, "What's—" but nothing more could be heard over the abrupt ear-splitting clamor of alarm bells and sirens.

Megamind's attention was torn away from the defaced art by the noise, which he'd heard before, too late on the heels of many successful escape attempts. But this time, he wasn't in the process of escaping, and though he sprang for the door out of reflex, he didn't quite make it before it slammed shut, sealing him in.

"What's going on?" he demanded, unable to suppress the coldly unpleasant shiver of fear that shot up his spine. His shouts were no more audible than anyone else's above the scream of the warning sirens, but he had a terrible feeling that the world had suddenly slipped into reverse, and the whole business of asking for his help had been nothing but a set-up to get him back behind bars. "Warden! What's the meaning of — this...?"

The alarms had obscured more than voices; it had also covered a subtle, more insidious hiss that entered the cell as invisibly as the gas that Megamind only now could smell as it filled his lungs as he prepared to shout more loudly. His green eyes went wide, horrified by the tidal wave of betrayal that crashed over him only moments before the knockout gas sent the rest of his mind and body crashing into black oblivion.

* * *

><p><em>To be continued...<em>


	5. At the Edge of Uncertainty

_Author's Note: Sorry that this took a little longer than usual, but Real Life is pretty stressful right now, though I'm grateful that it hasn't gotten so bad that I can't keep on writing, if a bit more slowly. My thanks to all who offered their thoughts and their compassion for my husband and I; right now, we're in the waiting phase, as he isn't scheduled for surgery until October 5th. We're still hoping that all will go well (with the surgery and his health, though I have my doubts about the issues we're certain to face with what's laughingly called health insurance), so being able to keep creatively active is better than spending my time fretting about things I can't change. And my thanks to all who keep on reading and reviewing, your support helps keep my spirits up, too. Now, onward!_

* * *

><p>Chapter Five<br>At the Edge of Uncertainty

He knew what he had done. And he knew he'd been the worst kind of coward. Koan Rii had persuaded his wife to steal from a friend, and he had lied to her about his interest in that friend's design schematics and development information about an engine to which he himself had no rights. He had paid others to build what he told them to build, as quickly as possible, had gotten others to outfit one of his biggest merchant ships with the hastily completed engine, and had gotten others to take it on its maiden voyage.

But he had taken none of the risks. He had done the safe parts, the easy parts. He had made his own interpretations of the stolen designs, had run that information through the filter of what he wanted it to be, and had drawn conclusions as to how the desired result of achieving a large-scale interstellar engine could be achieved, much sooner than the Ayalthan scientists claimed was possible. And he had used his own resources to obtain and pay for any materials or staff that was needed to do the job, hurrying it along as quickly as possible.

But in the end, he hadn't even had the guts to be on board the ship during its first and supposedly glorious maiden voyage.

Oh yes, he was powerful, wealthy, a man to be reckoned with — and he'd hidden behind others every step of the way. As he'd tried to hide behind a lie of ignorance when the man whose work he'd stolen and misused had called to inform him of the results of his arrogance. Varaan hadn't known that Koan was specifically responsible, of course, but the merchant wasn't the best liar in the universe. The Ayalthans were extremely perceptive when it came to the emotions of those around them, and Koan couldn't have hidden the guilt he felt while hearing the truth about what he'd unleashed even if he _had _been the most skillful liar ever born.

This whole idea had been to expand the horizons of his merchant empire, to make the House of Rii stand far above any other, to make himself a Prince among princes. Instead, his arrogant cowardice was about to bring down not only his House, but every single house in the entire system.

And to make matters worse, his wife was furious.

"You _told _me that you were _helping _Varaan to help our son!" Lethai spat at her husband when she finally found him in one of most private rooms of their sprawling estate after she herself had discovered what had happened from the ambassador's wife. Ephles hadn't known that Koan was responsible for this accident as she thought it to be, a mistake made by someone on the team of Ayalthan scientists — but Lethai knew better.

She remembered how it had begun months ago, with Koan's smoothly honeyed words, offered while she'd been nursing little Zan, telling her how he had been struck by inspiration after Varaan had showed him his engineering work on the drive that would do so much to broaden all their outlooks for the future. He hadn't wanted to seem a fool if he was wrong, and he did so want to surprise his friend with his insights if he was right. But he needed another, closer look at the schematics and test data to be sure, so he'd claimed, and he didn't want to risk spoiling the surprise by asking Varaan's wife for the favor, so he'd asked his own to do it more secretly. It was for all of them, he reminded her, especially for their children, and with baby Zan sated and sleeping peacefully in her arms, it had all seemed so perfectly reasonable, Lethai hadn't been able to say no.

She was saying more than just no right now. She was angry, and she was a force to be reckoned with. Though not built to the same massive proportions as her husband, Lethai was tall and strong in a more lithe fashion, the strength of flexible steel rather than hard, heavy stone. Her long black hair was a mane of rippling waves around her head, her eyes flashing with blue fire, the hottest part of the flame. This time, Zan was asleep in another part of the sprawling estate and not in his mother's arms, well away from any chance of overhearing his parents' confrontation.

"You _used _me, and you used Zan!" his mother now snarled at his father, furious with herself for having been so tricked, and furious with him for having dared to try such a thing.

Koan knew she was right, but he grasped at any straws he could find to muster some kind of an explaination. "Lethai, beloved, this wasn't what I expected to happen..."

"Oh, don't give me that!" she ended the excuse before it could do more than begin. "You _know _that when it comes to anything scientific or even mechanical, you barely have the gifts of an Ayalthan child, and you still keep pretending that you're every bit as good as their experts, even better! It's an acceptable conceit if you limit it to discussions and debates among friends like Varaan who accept your eccentricities, but every single time you try to tinker with or tweak something more complex than a bread crisper, it blows up in your face! Only this time, it didn't blow up in _your _face, did it?"

Her spouse cringed. "I didn't know—!" he began, only to be cut short again by Lethai's growled retort.

"You suspected enough to not be on that ship! Bakka and Drin were both good pilots, but was it any coincidence that you chose people without family ties?"

"They both wanted the bonuses I offered," Koan defended, knowing that it was weak at best. "And most of my pilots are unattached. Anyone who travels off-planet knows that our invulnerability won't protect us if the gravity or oxygen fail or should the ship be stranded for too long, so it's common for such crews to be unattached. I'm not the only merchant who hires that way! But I swear, Lethai, I didn't know that _this_ would happen! I _expected_ that at worst, the new drive simply wouldn't work, the ship wouldn't be able to make the transition from here to Cobin, and they'd merely have to continue the voyage using the ordinary drive."

"And so even though the experts _told _you it wasn't safe, you didn't believe them — and _now _look at what you've done! People have _died, _Koan, people who were our friends! And now...!"

The golden-haired merchant saw the horrified look on his wife's face and felt something twist deep inside him. _Varaan doesn't know, not for certain, _he told himself, but he didn't truly believe it. Bakka and Drin had been friends, true, but not so close that Lethai would feel this degree of vehement upset over their loss. Her anger _might_ be rooted in the fact that she'd unwittingly been made an instrument of that loss, but Koan couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this, far more. "And now what?" he asked as neutrally as possible. "What have you heard?"

From the smoldering look she gave him, he wished he hadn't asked. "Ephles Thejhan just called to say goodbye. She and her husband are leaving this afternoon on the fastest transport to Ayalthis. Varaan needs to be there as soon as possible to work on repairing the effects of an unexpected use of an unstable wormhole hyperdrive. And she _hopes _they'll be able to get there before this 'accident' destroys everything and everyone in our star system!"

When Koan grimaced and dropped his head into his hands, covering his proud and handsome face in an expression of remorse, the raven-haired woman's fury shifted into anguish. "Koan, how could you _do _this? You tricked our friends, you lied to me, you let Bakka and Drin go into danger you were afraid to face — and now, _everyone _is going to pay for it! You, me, all our people — and our son! How can you say you wanted to ensure his future and then do something like this? Oh, yes, you ensured his future. You guaranteed that he's going to die before he's even a year old!"

Her husband had to struggle to speak, but it was less difficult than remaining silent. "Perhaps not," he said as he dropped his hands, his usually confident deep voice uncertain, unsteady. "The wormhole isn't stable, so it could collapse at any moment. Or the Ayalthan scientists could find a way to force it to collapse—"

Lethai's fury was back in full. "So now you count on them to undo what you did? And don't deny that you're responsible! Even if you haven't owned up to it and no one's come right out and said it, you _know _what you did — and I know it! First you had me distract Ephles to 'borrow' all her husband's research two days after he showed it to you, and not three months later, _this _happens!"

"I didn't expect this to happen, Lethai, I swear!" Koan cried as he turned his stricken face to her, the shine in his blue eyes suspiciously wet. "I know that I made a terrible mistake, but if I'd had any real notion that it could end like _this,_ I would _never _have even tried!"

Her lips pressed together in a hard line. "You're going to do something about it now," she declared firmly, her tone one that would stand no argument. "You're getting onto that ship to Ayalthis with Varaan and Ephles this afternoon. You're going to take with you every bit of information you have about what you did with his designs after you had me _steal_ them, and you're going to pray to the Great Maker that he and his associates will be able to see whatever it was you did wrong and find a way to fix it. And you're going to make a public apology to everyone in this system who will listen, or I swear I'll tell them what happened myself and let them take you out into space and shove you through an airlock!"

There was very little in the universe that frightened Koan or could make him feel small and insignificant and weak, but that determined look on his wife's face and the commanding tone of her voice were both among them. Either one alone could have made him submit to whatever just punishment he had earned; together, they were enough to bring the big, powerful man to his knees, literally, in abject remorse. "As you say," he agreed softly, meekly as he knelt before her. "I'll go at once, and stay for as long as they require my presence. If they ask me to submit to their laws, I will. I never meant for... for _this_ to happen, truly, Lethai."

She sniffed, her anger still strong, though his willingness to abase himself tempered it. "I know you didn't _mean _it," she said briskly. "You never _mean_ any of the foolish things you do, Koan, and yet you keep doing them! But this one can't be fixed with money or influence or a dashing smile and weak promises. If you'd actually had a brilliant idea that could've provided an answer to a problem that even expert scientists couldn't solve, you should have just _told _them! But no, you rushed on and tried to do it yourself because you wanted to grab the glory, and you wanted it _right now! _If by some miracle we all come through this alive—!"

Koan grasped her hands even though they were balled into fists, turning pleading eyes to her. "Don't even think it, beloved! Varaan said it will be months until that can happen, and surely there will be time enough to find a way to reverse this!"

She knew that he was trying to use his charms to soften her mood, but Lethai was adamant. "And if there isn't? If you've condemned everything living thing in this system to a horrible end, what then?"

He sighed in surrender. "Then if there is a Life beyond this life as our people believe, I will pay for my crimes to our Maker, and spend that Life making amends, if I can. And once I've submitted myself to the Ayalthans for whatever they require of me, if they will allow it, I will return to you and Zan. Even if I can do nothing to make right what I've done wrong, I want to have the courage to face whatever comes with my family."

He spoke with great sincerity — and for once, Lethai could hear no trace of his natural tendency to manipulate, to talk and think and act like a trader. He was speaking from his heart, as a husband and a father. Lethai closed her eyes briefly, and when she opened them again, the anger had melted into sorrow.

"We'll be waiting here for you," she said softly, sadly. There was no need to explain why. If Koan took his family with him, it would look as if they had all fled Glaupek to deliberately avoid facing their own people once the news spread. In their culture, it was a terrible act of cowardice to leave none of one's House to face such shame directly; Lethai knew and accepted that under the circumstances, she would have to be the one to stand fast. "If they let you return, do it quickly. You said you wanted to do this for Zan; if you can do nothing more, at least be here with him at the end."

Koan leaned forward, pressing his forehead against the hands he held in his own in a gesture of contrite surrender. "You're braver than I, beloved, much braver. Everything will be as you say. I know the Ayalthans, and I know Varaan; they'll only ask restitution of me if they _can _undo this, and then it will be to repay them for what it cost to do so. I'll be back, Lethai, so you can tell any of our people who try to vent their anger on you to wait to do it to me. I'm the one who caused this, and all the blame and the shame is mine. Just shield Zan from it. Come what may, he shouldn't suffer for even one hour because of my arrogant mistake."

Moved by his honesty, Lethai pulled her hands from his to turn his face upward so that she could bend to kiss him. She was as passionate in her love for this man as she was when he moved her to anger, and though the rage would pass, the love never would. "I'll pray that it be so," she murmured when she broke the kiss and pressed her cheek to the thick golden waves atop his head. "Whatever punishment may be ours for what we both have done, I pray that Zan will be spared such a fate."

* * *

><p>More than three and a half decades later, Zan Rii — who was now the adult Wayne Scott and totally unaware of his true birth name — found himself at the Metro City Prison for the Criminally Gifted, not bringing some villain or mere thug there for justice, but instead on an errand of mercy. Today was the day his adoptive parents had estimated was his birthday when they took in the foundling alien; by Earth's reckoning, they were off by some seven months and sixteen days, largely because Lady Scott had wanted to imagine that the baby boy who was to be hers was only a few weeks old, at most.<p>

He had just finished having brunch with his Earth mother and had planned to spend the rest of the day with her in quiet celebration before he told the entire world the real story of Metro Man's "tragic" retirement in tomorrow's interview, when Roxanne called. He'd been startled to hear that Megamind was back in prison and she needed a ride to help get him out, since Minion was still involved with the city's holiday parade and festivities and she didn't want to spoil things for him.

Wayne had been a little miffed by the fact that Roxanne didn't seem to mind spoiling the day for _him, _until she told him the particulars. When he passed on the information to his mother, Lady Scott had given him another shock. She insisted that he go and give whatever help was needed, since for all the nuisancy things his former opponent had done, he had never involved anyone in the kind of lie Wayne had perpetrated, letting the world believe that Megamind had murdered him for nearly a full year before coming up with another lie to clear him, but still hide the truth. The Scott family may have been ruthless business folk in their day, but never had they been liars, and she felt that Wayne owed some consideration to his ex-nemesis after his bratty childhood bullying, all things considered.

So he'd taken his mother's Bentley — which he'd spent the last month learning to drive better, after experiences over the summer had taught him that he _really _needed to learn how to be a normal human being so that he could better relate to them, a thing long, long overdue — driven to the Lair to pick up Roxanne, and headed out to the prison.

"It was completely an accident!" a distinctly upset but reasonably controlled Warden Alvarez told them both after he met them just inside the building's main entrance. "The escape failsafes were built into the system from the start, the techs say, but we didn't trigger them on purpose! I mean, I _know _that Megamind's turned over a new leaf and more, he's been doing a lot of good since he went straight, and I wouldn't want to ruin any of his hard work by pulling such a nasty trick on him!"

It was obvious that the man was sincere, and though she was worried about her husband, Roxanne couldn't bring herself to make things worse as they hustled to the special isolation wing. "What kind of an accident?" she wondered, carefully keeping her tone non-accusatory, if not exactly neutral. "You said he's unconscious?"

Alvarez nodded. "The cell was made to lock down and pump in knockout gas if the scanners picked up any unusual kinds of activity. It's not enough to kill him, just keep the prisoner from continuing with whatever escape or attack plan had been launched. But the truth is, it never went off before, not even when he was an inmate and was plotting all sorts of breakouts and other schemes from the second he was put in the cell!"

Both Roxanne and Wayne were startled by that. "Never?" the latter asked, truly surprised.

"Not once," the new warden confirmed. "It worked if the system was deliberately tripped during tests, but beyond that, never. Most of us thought the scanner part of the system was just a huge waste of money, since it either couldn't work the way the designers said it would, or Megamind had ways of controlling his brain activity so the scanners couldn't register the things it was supposed to be looking for. I don't know what happened now, but after he and the techs finished running the diagnostics and making the repairs and adjustments it needed, I went in to let them run a scan on a normal person, and then I asked Megamind if he wouldn't mind going in to let them run a check on someone...well, significantly above normal. He didn't have a problem with it, but I swear, I had no idea the system would decide that _now _was a good time to work the way it was supposed to!"

He sounded mortified, but as they came to the corridor leading to the isolation cell, Roxanne began to piece together the puzzle. "I'm sure none of you did anything wrong," she assured the worried man. "You let Mykaal get his hands on it, he doesn't like the cell's current resident, and I'll wager he did some tweaking of his own to 'improve' things." While she genuinely believed that, she also had a strong feeling that after his session with the sleep teacher not even twelve hours ago, her husband's brain was doing leaps and somersaults it had never done before.

"That's possible," the tech Lee said as they arrived, having overheard her. He and Norm were on the floor with the console and every breaker panel opened up, working to try to restore at least minimal power to the system. "I've been doing regular checks on this system ever since it was installed, and I've never seen it do anything like it did just before all the containment failsafes went off. Every single gauge maxed out a few seconds after we activated the scanners, and then blew."

Roxanne wrinkled her nose. "I thought I recognized the telltale stink of electrical shorts."

Wayne frowned as he surreptitiously used his super-vision to see into the cell. The lights inside were out, but the iris cover on the door's window was open, letting in enough light to see by. Poor Megamind was still unconscious, crumpled on the floor on the other side of the door. "Why haven't you let him out?" he asked, concerned about his ex-rival's condition.

Norm grunted. "Because when the system shorted, it took the controls for the door out, too. _And _the ventilation. The gas stopped pumping in when the power went, but we can't suck out what's in there and pump in fresh air."

"And there aren't any non-powered releases for the locks," Warden Alvarez added. "They were afraid Megamind would figure them out and use them to his own advantage, if they were there."

Roxanne frowned. "And you haven't forced your way in because...?" she prompted.

Lee snorted. "Because though the designers didn't do so hot a job with the actual sensors, they did a bang-up job overdoing the armoring on the room and the door. We don't have any blowtorches, but even if we had some brought in, if we try to cut through that way with the vents down, it'll take so long to get through, we'd use up the air he needs to breathe before we can cut even a few air holes. Even the window's so heavily reinforced, cutting through it could present the same problem."

"Not to mention the issue with the knockout gas," Norm added. "We don't know what it is exactly, and there's a strong chance it might be flammable."

"Okay, good to know," Roxanne said with a sigh, understanding their caution but not liking the fact that her husband was still trapped in that room, unconscious. Another unsettling thought occurred to her. "If enough of the air was replaced with knockout gas to be dangerous and the vents are down, how long will it be before he suffocates?" she asked, just barely able to keep her reporter's cool.

The two techs cleared their throats; the warden grimaced. "We don't know. There are just too damn many things we don't know, to be honest with you. That's why I called you in. You're his wife; I want to have your okay before we try anything. I would've just asked you over the phone, but we'd hoped to at least get the ventilation system up again before you got here."

Well, she couldn't blame them for being cautious, but she was also glad she'd asked Wayne to come with her. When she looked at him, she saw him looking back, and understanding passed between them. "Could you do it?" she asked softly, not wanting to compromise him if he wasn't ready.

The retired hero looked at the two frantically working techs and the worried warden, thought hard for a moment, then decided. He nodded. "Yeah, though I think we'd better warn them first."

Roxanne understood, turning to Alvarez. "Is there anyone else who's likely to come in here?"

The man shook his head. "Not until the power's back up. Any time we have a failure in any part of the prison, we put things on lockdown as a security measure. The guards won't come unless I call 'em. The other electricians are working on the main lines to see if we can bypass the isolated circuits for this unit, and though I put in a call to the system designer, he's on vacation in Hawaii."

The reporter had to grant that the warden answered thoroughly when questioned, though that was probably more than she needed to know. "Good, then it'll be easy to keep this quiet for a day. Can I trust all three of you to keep a secret for that long?"

Alvarez nodded, though he was puzzled, and the two techs paused in their work long enough to give her similar looks. "You want us not to talk about this thing going haywire for a day?" Lee asked, wanting to be sure he understood correctly.

Roxanne shrugged. "Not exactly, though I suppose it wouldn't hurt, Mykaal's probably going to feel pretty embarrassed once he's out of there, and I suspect he'd going to have a doozy of an explanation for you when he wakes up. No, I just want to be sure that what happens here stays here, at least until tomorrow night."

The two techs exchanged glances at her request, then shrugged. "Sure, why not?" Norm said equably. "To be honest, I'm not all that thrilled with people finding out that we came to do a routine maintenance job and it went wrong so badly." When Lee concurred, Roxanne took them as the answers she wanted. She turned to Wayne, indicating that the next move was his.

He loosed a little sigh. "Okay, then. Would you mind stopping your work for a minute? And step back a little, against the wall, all of you. I want to have the corridor clear for this."

The three men exchanged puzzled glances, but when Roxanne complied with his request, moving away from the door to stand against the wall about ten feet away, they followed her lead. When they were clear, Wayne closed his eyes for a moment, steeled himself, and went to work.

Using his laser vision so quickly that there would be no excessive heat build-up inside the cell, he cleanly cut away the clear glass-like material of the open window, leaving only an inch-wide rim all around. Even as the three men behind him gasped to see the supposedly powerless super using his powers again, he caught the cut section of the window and moved it safely to one side. Then, employing both his powers of super breath and super speed, he sucked the remaining knockout gas from the chamber before it could roll out to overwhelm those behind him, then zipped outside the prison to release it harmlessly before zipping back in to blow fresh air into the breached cell. His movement from cell to outside and back happened so quickly, he seemed only to blur slightly, his passage unnoticed by anyone else in the prison.

When he was sure the air inside the cell was safe for non-supers to breathe, he turned back to Roxanne and the warden. "I can't fit in through a hole that small," he admitted, trying not to notice the shocked looks on the faces of the techs, and grateful in a way that Alvarez didn't actually seem surprised by the demonstration of his great lie. "But I can help one of you inside, to help move Megs out of there so he can recover someplace more comfortable. The poor little guy is stuck in a position that's gonna tie him up in knots if he stays that way much longer."

"I'll do it," Alvarez volunteered without hesitating. "It's my fault he went in in the first place, it's the least I can do."

That settled, Wayne hoisted the warden through the glassless window, both men taking care so that Megamind didn't get stepped on in the process. Alvarez was happily in good physical condition, so lifting the small blue hero up so that Wayne could move him through the window and out of the room went quickly. On the warden's suggestion, he took the still unconscious ex-villain to a cot in the bolthole adjacent to his office, there for the times when the situation at the prison demanded that he remain on site until matters were resolved. The move again took place at super speed, so that it seemed as if he was standing there holding the unconscious Megamind one moment, then the next simply wasn't. After he'd helped the warden out again and was in the process of carefully "welding" the cut window back into place, Roxanne turned to the three men, focusing most on the astonished techs.

"No, you're not imagining this," she told them. "And Wayne didn't miraculously get his powers back; he never lost them. You may have seen ads for a special interview I'm doing with him tomorrow; it'll explain everything. But I hope you can understand why we don't want this leaking until then. The reasons behind this are pretty complicated, and I don't want rumors making things even messier before Wayne has a chance to tell everyone the whole story."

Her mention of rumors seemed to snap the two techs out of their flabbergasted stupor just as Wayne finished repairing the window. He'd done such a good job of it, one would only notice that anything had been done to it if they knew to look for it. Realizing that the former Metro Man had _not _lost his powers — or perhaps had gotten them back — both Norm and Lee were very willing to agree to keep their mouths shut, just to stay on his good side, and Roxanne's. Satisfied, she and Wayne followed Alvarez to his office while the techs went back to work, trying to get enough power back to the isolation cell so that Hal could be returned to it at the end of the day, scanners working or not.

Megamind was still out of it when they arrived at the warden's bolthole, looking much more comfortable on the small bed than he had slumped on the cell's floor. Roxanne went to him immediately, and was relieved when he responded to the touch of her hand on his face, even though he didn't come around yet.

"This is just awfully weird," Wayne remarked as he watched the reporter gently trying to rouse his former foe, feeling more than a touch envious of her tender attentions to him. "Megs lived in that cell whenever he was here for almost seven years, and the thing never went off like this. What happened?"

"I'd like to know that myself," Alvarez admitted. "You say you think he might've changed something while he was working on it, something that made it really _work?"_

Roxanne shrugged. "I don't know for sure, but knowing Mykaal, I'd say there's a pretty strong chance that he did. He's told me that he always thought the whole brain scanning bit was a joke because it wasn't capable of monitoring the right things, and wasn't nearly sensitive enough to do more than a standard EEG. So if he saw ways to tweak things to make them work... Yeah, he'd do it, and he wouldn't say anything until it _did _work, just to surprise people — and to cover his own butt if it failed or didn't work the way he wanted."

She gazed at him fondly as she rubbed his cheeks, encouraging him to shake off the effects of the gas. "Guess you got yourself this time, sweetie," she said with a crooked smile, leaning forward to press a light kiss of consolation to his lips.

As if this were a cliched fairy tale, his big green eyes chose that moment to flutter open, his vision still a bit foggy from the drug's aftereffects. As Roxanne was the first sight to greet him, he smiled happily, thinking she'd come to waken him from a nap — until memory came roaring back like an avalanche.

The blue hero sat bolt upright and started to shriek, "What the—!" in pure outrage, until the wooziness of the fading drug hit him a moment later. Dizzy, he was caught in Roxanne's steadying grasp; he welcomed it, since it gave him a chance to note the figures of Wayne and Warden Alvarez just beyond her. A reflex frown creased his face but didn't deepen much, as he could also see the two of them watching him with genuine concern.

"I am _so _sorry, Mr. Thejhan," the warden said with immense contrition and politeness, not at all the demeanor of a man who had engineered a betrayal. "If I'd known the system would react like that, I would _never _have asked you to play guinea pig! Is there _anything _I can do to help? Call the doctor, get some water or coffee...?"

Megamind's nose wrinkled expressively at the last suggestion. "From the cafeteria?" he said, pausing to clear his dry throat. "No, thank you, I'd sooner drink battery acid."

Having heard his stories about the unpalatability of prison food, especially the horror they called coffee, Roxanne chuckled. "Yes, now I know where you picked up your taste for coffee with half a pint of cream, a cup of sugar, and an entire bottle of chocolate syrup! I'd ask Wayne to fly over to the Starbucks down the street, if it wasn't a day too soon. Just water, Warden, thank you."

As Alvarez hustled to fill her request, Megamind leaned back enough to favor her with a startled look. "If it's a day too soon for that, should you have said that in front of the warden?"

"He knows," Wayne said as Roxanne shook her head. "That failsafe system on the isolation cell worked really good, once it actually was tripped! A lot of things shorted when it blew from the overload, though, including the ventilation system, so I needed to use my powers to get you out of there before you suffocated. Warden Alvarez and the two techs who were there promised not to say anything until after tomorrow's interview. Is Roxanne right, little buddy? _Did _you tinker with those scanners to make them work better — by a few thousand percent?"

Though he might've been irritated by the retired hero's persistent use of nicknames, Megamind was pleased to hear him finally call Roxanne by the name she preferred, so it was a wash. "Yes," he said candidly, partly from the drug hangover and partly because he saw no reason to lie. "But I didn't expect them to trigger the security lockdown and overload! That's what you said, didn't you? That the whole system overloaded and shorted out after it was activated and I was in the cell? It shouldn't've done _that...!"_

Roxanne hugged him in sympathy. "I don't think it could've done anything else, sweetie," she opined with a small sigh. When her blue hero pulled away enough to give her a profoundly skeptical look, she smiled. "You have to admit, ever since you woke up this morning, your brain has been running like one of those overclocked computers some techies love to make, the kind you need to cool down with liquid nitrogen. I think that either you didn't account for that when you did your tweaking, or the hardware you tweaked just wasn't able to handle what you wanted it to do. Maybe both."

"Probably both," Megamind deduced, still frowning. "I should've known the circuits and processors weren't up to it, but I don't see why being excited over finally getting answers to a lot of things I've always wanted to know should make any difference. I still have the same brain I had three years ago!"

The reporter waggled one hand. "Not exactly." She glanced at Wayne, then gave her husband a meaningful look. He didn't quite seem to catch what she was trying to communicate, so she made an executive decision and went ahead and said it. "Three years ago, you were still an adolescent of your people. Now, you're an adult, and remember, your parents told you that what makes the difference is the maturity of your physical brain. Even if you didn't know that you're genetically unique three years back, you aren't physically the same. It may not seem like a huge difference, but it might be bigger than we know. To top it all off, that special brain of yours just had a _lot_ of very important information downloaded into it at hyperspeed, and ten to one, it's still working on processing it all. Put all those things together, and I'd say you probably would've made those scanners light up like fireworks on the Fourth of July and fry every circuit in 'em even if you hadn't done a thing to up their efficiency."

For the better part of a minute, Megamind could only sit there and blink, trying to figure out whether or not Roxanne's deductions were truly possible. Just off the top of his head, he suspected that they were, but as he concentrated on the matter, he suddenly _felt _something inside him... _shift_. Not physically — or at least he didn't _think _the sensation was physical, but there was a definite perception of _something _changing, like an engine changing gears or a microscope increasing its magnification to bring whatever it was studying into sharp focus. And just as suddenly, he could see the original design for the security scanners, the alterations he'd made in working on it, all the possible effects that could have resulted, the gradual increase in both the amount and efficiency of synaptic activity in his own brain over the past four years, the comparative differences between each year's stage of maturation, the way in which his one session with the Teacher had initiated a biological shift from what was the normal level of neurochemical production for his people into a state uniquely suited to his own personal capacities defined by his genetic structure—

The green eyes widened as he was struck by the disturbing realization that he was _feeling _his own brain at work in ways he'd never imagined anyone could. It wrung a shocked gasp from him even as it made him dizzy. The whole thing was both exhilarating in its extraordinary newness — and utterly terrifying.

When Megamind turned his face to Roxanne, she had never seen him look so pale, or so frightened. "What's happening to me?" he whispered, unable to manage any greater volume. "Oh, God, Roxanne, did I make a horrible mistake last night?"

Even as she tried to think of a response, some way to comfort him, Wayne, who was completely in the dark, spoke up. "What happened last night?" he wanted to know, hoping that his former foe hadn't experienced some kind of relapse into villainy, not right before he was about to inform the world that his powers were just as strong as they'd always been.

"Not what I think you're thinking," the reporter correctly deduced. "You know about the recordings Mykaal's parents sent with him, right?"

"That little glowing ball that won't light up for anyone but him?" The musician nodded. "Yeah, he told me about it and showed it to me the first time he let me into the living quarters of the Lair. It's made me wish my own parents had done something like that."

"I'm glad mine didn't," Roxanne said with a small snort. "He found a new message on it last night, and it told him how to find some other things that had been hidden in his escape pod, for him to use if he managed to survive this long. One of the things was a sleep teaching device that was able to give him a lot of information, about his family, his people and Minion's, about _your _planet, too, and what happened to destroy them."

"Really? Whoa, that's pretty amazing! But did it end up giving him nightmares?"

As Warden Alvarez returned with a bottle of cool water, Megamind finally shook off enough of his disquiet to answer the question rather than be discussed as if he wasn't in the room. "No, it didn't give me nightmares," he snapped rather testily, not liking the lightheaded feeling that insisted on persisting. "I already remembered the worst part of it, the vortex created by the unstable artificial wormhole literally swallowing entire planets whole, first my world, then yours, then..." He shook his head, trying to shake away the image of that very old memory that suddenly felt as if he was seeing it for the first time, amplified by the fact that he now understood exactly what had happened and how it had come about.

Alvarez had heard what he said and offered the water with a startled and sympathetic expression. "Ralph Thurmer told me what you'd told him about why you wound up here," he said, letting Roxanne take the bottle to open it, since Megamind appeared to be thinking too hard to notice it. "He thought it was a black hole that destroyed your planet, but he never said it was artificial."

"It would have to be, to do what it did so quickly," the blue genius said in a distracted tone, as if his brain was working on several hundred things at once. He closed his eyes even as he continued his explanation, trying to lessen what now felt like a growing headache without the physical pain. "Our sun wasn't of a type that would've evolved into a black hole to begin with, and even if by some fluke of nature it had, it would've gone nova first, wiping out any life in the system long before it collapsed into the gravitational vortex. Since a wormhole is by definition a double-ended black hole, opening one to provide a means of vastly faster than light travel would temporarily, and artificially, create a singularity — but without proper stabilization, it can't be held open long enough to be transversed. With _im_proper stabilization, it caused the formation of only one end — a vortex of intensely destructive force from which there could be no escape — and forming it deep in the gravity well of an already existing planetary system gave it the conditions and 'fuel' to allow it expand to immense and quite unnatural proportions. The result was a gravitational vortex that when it swallowed the energy of our sun hit its critical mass, and then created the effect of a black hole that 'exploded' in a supernova-like fashion, with an extremely accelerated rate of expansion after the crucial threshold was exceeded. There were six and a half months between the initial formation of the malformed wormhole and the threshold point; after it was reached, it took only six hours for it to consume every habitable planet in our system. By the projection of those who'd been attempting to reverse the effect, it should have achieved its maximum expansion within six days of the 'explosion,' and then _finally _collapsed once the available fuel — all the local significant mass in planets, asteroids, and other physical debris — was expended."

"The same amount of time it took to create the world," Roxanne murmured, noting the Biblical similarity.

"But it was done artificially?" The warden's question was answered with a single heavy nod. "Who would be crazy enough to do a thing like that?"

"Not crazy," Megamind corrected, massaging his temples in a vain attempt to coax his brain into slowing down enough to ease the new and powerfully disturbing sensations of his mind so rapidly — and efficiently — at work. "Just stupid, ignorant. It was an accident — one that could've been prevented if the person responsible had taken enough time to think things through instead of rushing ahead because he was impatient."

His laugh was dry and rueful. "I should talk! If I'd stopped to think things through last night, I could've saved myself a lot of headaches today!"

"Don't think like that," Roxanne scolded, though only lightly. "There really wasn't any way you _could _have known how you'd react to using that sleep teacher. I'm sorry that Minion and I even said anything to you about suddenly having spates of talking like—" She was about to say _like an encyclopedia, _but caught herself in time. That would only add fuel to the fire that was making the blue genius upset, and it was really an unfair assessment, reducing him to the level of a book or a machine. "Like a... what was it your people called it? _Natoosheena?"_

Her not deliberate mispronunciation brought a faint smile to Megamind's face. "_Natoshi'ana,_" he corrected, and some of the sensations of pressure growing inside him eased. "Do you think that's what this is?" he asked in a small but hopeful voice, opening his eyes.

Roxanne's answering smile was as soft as her touch on his cheek. "What else could it be? In a lot of their messages, your parents said you'd be able to use your full potential once your brain had reached full maturity. I think part of the reason you were finally able to trigger the message last night was because it was set to play only when the sensors in the data sphere could tell that you were completely ready for what would happen once your potential was unlocked."

Still jittery, the ex-villain noticed the odd ways Wayne and Alvarez were looking at him. It felt as if Roxanne had just said he'd grown two heads or something equally creepy, as if for the first time, they'd looked at him and realized just how alien he actually was. "But what if I'm not?" he had to wonder, since at the moment, he certainly didn't _feel _ready.

But the brunette was firm, if still sympathetic. "Then I doubt it would've played that message and the instructions. It's who you really _are_, sweetie, not something you were turned into. Though it was a little shocking for me to realize that something in you _had_ changed overnight, it's not something you should feel bad about, and I'm sorry that I said anything to make you think you should. It may be a little mind boggling, but it's exciting, too. Sure, it fried every circuit in that security scanner and shorted out power in that part of the isolation wing, but I'd think you'd be proud of that! It's big for a reason, remember?" She tapped his oversized head playfully, reminding him of one of his oldest trademark lines.

That brought a more certain smile to his face. "I guess it is." Megamind accepted the bottle of water she offered then and took a long, deep drink, easing the dryness in his throat and giving himself a moment to regroup. When he'd finished swallowing the cool liquid, he lowered the bottle and turned his eyes to the two men still watching in silence. "Well?" he prompted, determined to get any unsettling things they were feeling out into the open. "Go ahead, already, say it! Yes, I really _am_ alien, I've got strange genetics that gave me this huge mutant brain that's decided now would be a good time to grow a few times bigger and turn into some kind of organic supercomputer! And yes, I _was_ just a big, stupid, weird, overgrown _child _for the last thirty-some years, going around throwing citywide temper tantrums because I didn't like being called Mr. Blueberry Head and I was sick of being either ridiculed or hated or ignored! Come on, say it, I know that's what you're thinking! I'm _not _stupid!"

The expressions on both Wayne's and Alvarez's faces shifted, the warden's to surprised understanding, as if a light had finally been shed on a dark and confusing subject, Wayne's to shocked but nonetheless sincere regret. Roxanne put her arms around her trembling husband, now aware that this wasn't a tantrum but an example of his people's heightened emotions in a state of extreme turmoil. "Shh, sweetie," she soothed. "Nobody said that..."

"But he's right," Wayne forestalled. "That's how all the trouble started, back when we were kids and I never let him catch a break, even encouraged the other kids to tease him and ostracize him, and I just kept it up by letting people call him an overgrown juvenile delinquent, all these years. But Megs, I didn't know that your people really _do _take a longer time to mature, I swear! If that's for real, it's nothing to be ashamed of — as a matter of fact, it kind of puts everything in a whole new light."

"Legally speaking, too," Alvarez added with a nod of support. "There's precedent for people in their early twenties being given lesser sentences or being tried as juveniles because doctors were able to successfully argue that their brains hadn't fully matured yet, and as such they couldn't be tried as adults. If there's any concrete evidence at all to show that your kind don't reach that point until their mid-thirties... Well, I'm not exactly sure what good it would do since you've gotten full pardons for everything, but it might be something to shut up at least a few of the people who keep whining about how it's not possible for grown adult to turn over a new leaf the way you did."

Their remarks — compassionate rather than mocking or accusatory — helped calm the agitated hero considerably; Roxanne could feel some of the tension drain from him. "I never thought of that," Megamind admitted, the energy of his upset now turned in a different direction. "I doubt that the evidence I have at the moment would be considered admissible in a strictly legal sense, but it could be very enlightening in other ways — properly presented, of course."

Alvarez smiled, relieved to see him take the suggestion so well. "Of course. And since you're the master of presentation, I'll leave that up to you. In the meantime, if you don't mind, I want to go check and see what kind of progress is being made on at least bringing back power to the basic systems of that cell. I don't want Stewart getting any notions that he's being moved someplace where he can just lie in bed all day and watch TV. Sitting up is the most exercise he gets, unless we force him to move his butt."

When Megamind nodded his consent, the warden excused himself and left. Wayne, however, continued to look thoughtful, though not in a way that could be interpreted as negative. "Well?" the ex-villain prompted, lifting one elegant eyebrow.

That got the retired hero to shake himself out of whatever rut of thought he was stuck in. "Oh, ah, nothing! I mean, not about this adolescent thing, you explained that and I believe you — and I _am _sorry for being such a jerk when we were both kids. No, I was wondering..." He paused to rub the back of his neck. "You know what happened to our planets, now — what _really _happened. Do you know, were there any other survivors? I mean, could we wake up one day and find our parents or cousins or someone knocking on our doors?"

Megamind shook his head without hesitating. "No. They only had a limited amount of resources and not enough time to build more, never mind that a lot of people apparently thought that this was the hand of Destiny. You and Minion and I are the only survivors."

Wayne accepted that, since it was what he'd figured to be the truth, long ago. "But why us?" was the question now on his mind. "Why did _we_ get picked to be saved, and not someone else?"

The blue man sighed, withdrawing from Roxanne's loose embrace just enough to lean back against the wall the cot was pushed up against. "Not for the same reasons — not entirely," he finally admitted, smiling wanly at his wife as she shifted to settle beside him. "All of our parents loved us, of course, but their motivations were... _slightly_ different..."

* * *

><p><em>To be continued...<em>


	6. The Chain of Destiny

_Author's Note: My deepest thanks to all who have been reading, reviewing, and keeping my husband and I in their thoughts and prayers. We still have another ten days to go before his surgery (and other parts of Real Life aren't helping one bit with my stress levels), but I think that with the grace of God, all will turn out well, once we get past these next few difficult months. I have every intention of keeping up with my writing for both this story and "PinUp Boy," since between the two, they'll provide me with outlets for angst and for humor, as I need it. So without any further delay, let's continue the tale!_

* * *

><p>Chapter Six<br>The Chain of Destiny

Four. It was a number of both delight and horror, of promise and perfidy. The beginning, and the end.

In four months, Mykaal would be born, defying both Nature and the predictions of History. He would live, and thrive, the next Great One to come among them — and the last.

For in four months and perhaps five days, their world and their star system and the life within it would die, swallowed by the voracious appetite of a scientific changeling. The powerful but benign thing that the scientists who were slowly and patiently nurturing it to be a power of great promise had been stolen from its incubator, hastened to a twisted completion by less skilled hands, and forced into birth as not a child of great potential but a monster of almost unimaginable destruction.

It was strange yet fitting, Kyrel mused one day as she watched the wind moving gently through the blossoming fruit trees growing on a hillside near their home. Those trees, so lovely and colorful and full of flower for the coming growing season would never live to bear the fruit of their flower. She didn't know which was worse, to never reach the time of fruition, or to bear a harvest of extraordinary bounty only to see it destroyed along with the world that could have benefited from it.

Mykaal would live and be born and survive, of that Kyrel was now certain. All the careful work that she and Eliaan and Toomia and even little Ootori had put into ensuring it was now a solid certainty within her. If she continued to follow this path, she would give birth to her child — their dazzling son, the name Eliaan had suggested that night soon after he had been conceived, while they watched the stars and the ribbon lights dancing brightly in the clear early autumn skies above their home. At the time, she had thought only of the brightness of the skies and of the spark of life within her, but now, her husband's laughing suggestion meant so much more. Mykaal was incredibly unique; his gifts would take many years to truly manifest, and it was cruel that the monster recently born in their system would rob him of his chance to achieve a great destiny.

Such a terrible injustice could not be allowed to happen. Kyrel felt as certain of this as she did of her child's strength and health. The bastard beast that had been made when Varaan's brainchild had been stolen would not have the final word in this drama of Fate, oh, no! The _Natoshi'ana _always were born among their people at a time of great change and even greater need, when decreed by the hand of Destiny. Indeed, if one looked back across the vast tapestry of their history, of their many thousands of years of civilization in which only fourteen _Natoshi'ana _had lived to blossom into the fullness of their gifts, it was clear that the Great Ones were born _only _to answer the need for some equally great change in their entire world and all its people.

There was a purpose for Mykaal's existence, and as Kyrel had pondered this during the weeks since Varaan had told them his terrible news, she had begun to see what that purpose might be, and how they could help him to fulfill it. To that end, she had called together her immediate family, for there were those among them who were in a position to help make her ideas into reality.

"Let me see if I understand you properly," her bondfather, Methraad Thejhan, said when she had told those gathered what she believed to be the will of Destiny, for their world and her unborn son. Like Kyrel's mother, Tayames, Methraad sat upon the Council of Elders who governed and guided their people. As the Thejhan had long been the most gifted Ayalthan engineers and inventors — and also the most insatiably curious of all their people — it was fitting that Methraad had been chosen to head the part of their government that oversaw such things as the development and deployment of the interstellar probes and survey ships.

His shockingly vivid deep blue eyes were now narrowed in even deeper thought as he digested all his bonddaughter had just said. "You're confident now that Mykaal will indeed survive birth and the critical days after, and bring a new Great One among us only days before the unstable gravitational vortex may completely destroy our entire system."

Both Kyrel and Eliaan nodded. "I had my doubts at first, Father," the latter admitted, "but as the months have passed and I've seen him continue to grow and thrive, I do believe that Kyrel is right. Mykaal will live, and have a great destiny before him."

Shenaal, Kyrel's father, made a sound of skepticism that was not quite rude. "He'll have the same destiny as us all, unless this singularity can be unmade. No infant can stop what is coming, even if he should be the greatest of all the Great Ones ever born."

"He can't stop it, Father, that's true," Kyrel said with remarkable poise. "But he _can _escape it."

With the exception of Eliaan, everyone in the room — the couple's parents, Varaan, and Kyrel's elder siblings, Adyrel and Dynraas — stared at her in some kind of surprise or disbelief. "He can't," Dynraas, who was one of the members of the engineering team that had been working on Varaan's proposed wormhole drive, said with a shake of his head, his green eyes full of sadness. "We have only the six interstellar capable ships, and all have been very busy attempting to undo the effects of this... abomination, before it destroys us all."

He sounded intensely bitter — no surprise, since he was in charge of the laboratory simulations and tests, and knew better than anyone why the drive was not yet fit for use. There had been whispers and rumors accusing Dynraas of being the one responsible for this catastrophe, though most came from the other planets, or from some on their own who were terrified by the thought that in a matter of months, everything that they had ever known and loved would be destroyed.

Varaan, who had arrived on the fastest ship from Glaupek only three days before, sighed heavily. "Four ships," he corrected, not liking to be the one to say it. "Possibly only three. There was an... unexpected shift in the size of the vortex, not more than an hour ago; I was informed just before I came here. The event horizon suddenly altered its shape while Aljaam, Yaraad, and Orellanes were moving into position to deploy the emission satellites that would attempt to inhibit any further expansion of the wormhole. Aljaam's and Yaraad's ships were lost instantly, and Orellanes attempted a hyperjump to escape. If we receive no subspace communication from her within the next three hours, we can presume she was lost as well."

"Then the only way to save Mykaal would be to stop this vortex before it destroys everything," Annien, Eliaan's mother, said grimly. She was the least gregarious of them, a quiet but gifted geologist whose love for the bones of their world had led her to learn all the traditional arts that made use of stone, and also to work with others to find new uses for their mineral resources, such as the data gems that were now in common use, replacing older, larger, and less efficient means of information storage. "It would be unconscionably irresponsible for even one of the remaining ships to be used for anything but an attempt to save all life in our system."

"I agree," Kyrel said, unperturbed. "And I'm not thinking of my survival or Eliaan's, but the survival of all that our people have labored so hard for so long to learn and achieve. It's the survival of our culture and our knowledge that is most important."

"And you believe that the survival of your son would ensure that?" Methraad asked, not in accusation but genuinely curious to understand her reasoning.

She smiled wanly, exchanging a glance with her husband. "Perhaps not ensure it, Father," Eliaan answered. "But we believe that Destiny was at work in bringing Mykaal into our lives now, as he is, _Natoshi'ana._ The Great Ones have always come among us for a purpose — and what greater purpose can there be but to carry on the greatest legacy of all: the survival of our civilization, not here on Ayalthis but on another world?"

The others were all quiet for some long moments, shocked by this reasoning. Tayames was first to find her voice again. "You understand, my children, that this means that you accept not only the survival of your son beyond the crucial post-partum phase as fact, but also the inevitable destruction of our entire system and its peoples."

Both Kyrel and Eliaan nodded. "We hope that the latter is proven wrong," Kyrel said for them both, "but we cannot wait to find out whether or not it will be so. At this point, we need to accept that Destiny has marked the end of Ayalthis so that we can move forward with the preparations to save Mykaal and all our knowledge, history, and culture. Since a stardrive-fitted survey ship cannot be diverted for this, our plan must be as simple as possible."

Adyrel made a soft sound that was half bitter laugh, half groan of grief. "And will you set him adrift in a makeshift boat to be taken in by the _min'yaaunen, _like the infant heroes of all the ancient fables?"

Eliaan's smile was watery. "Not quite. To begin with, we know Mykaal can't remain in this system; the time between his birth and the final destruction will be brief, but hopefully not _too_ brief. Without the starships, the only other devices we have that are capable of making a hyperspace jump are the probes we send to observe other worlds in distant systems. We've never had many, but there are two currently in storage."

"And one would be large enough to be retrofitted as an escape vehicle for someone as small as an infant," Varaan said, thinking rapidly now that the possibility had been raised. "Yes, it could be done, with the Council's approval. But what point is there to saving his life without knowing that a safe haven exists? And how is the Destiny you mention served by this? A baby is still a baby, no matter his potential. He will be with us for a few days at most. How can our civilization and our knowledge be preserved by sparing the life of one so young?"

Neither Kyrel nor Eliaan were upset by these observations. "Mykaal is _Natoshi'ana_, brother," Eliaan reminded him. "He won't be trained and educated when we send him away, but he _will_ have the ability to learn whatever he puts his mind to. We can't go with him to be his teachers, but we _can _send with him all the collected knowledge and teachings and history of all our people. Even if he has no personal interest in acquiring it all for himself, he'll at the very least be able to find ways to pass it on to the people of another world who can benefit from it."

He pointedly turned his amber gaze to his father-in-law. "You're a Director of Education, Shenaal. You know all the ways we have to collect and store information, how to pass it on to students who can't come or be brought to the teaching centers, and how to key these instruction devices for the individual student. In four months, could this be done for our son? Could all the knowledge of all our disciplines be stored, to be sent with Mykaal in a way that he will be able to access when he's old enough to learn properly?"

Shenaal's hazel eyes widened hugely. "_All _of the disciplines? And complete social and political histories for _all _our peoples — meaning every planet in the system?"

"As much as possible," Kyrel confirmed. "Our knowledge in all the sciences and arts, of course, but if only the historical and cultural data of our own world can be assembled in time, that would be sufficient. Our goal is to give Mykaal everything possible that comes from his own people, so that if he successfully reaches adulthood and comes into the full capacity of his gifts, he will be able to learn whatever he wishes, and perhaps become a Great One for those of his new world, to help guide them into a brighter future — with the complete understanding of who he is, where he came from, and what possible paths lie before him."

"That's... incredibly ambitious," Methraad said, shaking his head ever so slightly in wonder. "There must be uncountable variables standing in the way of this plan ever reaching fruition. Even if we accept that Mykaal _will _survive, that everything you want can be prepared in time, what world could you send him to where he could have a chance of achieving this destiny?"

"We have two that we're considering," Eliaan replied, pacing as he spoke. "It is, of course, essential that the world to which we send him be suitable for sustaining life of our kind, compatible in atmosphere, temperature, food sources, gravity, etcetera. It also requires a civilization and technology sufficiently advanced to accept Mykaal, and what he may have to offer them when he matures. We intend to examine the information we have on these two worlds as closely as possible between now and the departure time, so that we'll be able to choose the best place where Mykaal can thrive and be happy."

"But you can't send an entire educational facility with him!" Dynraas pointed out, quite logically, he felt.

Shenaal smiled. "Not the entire facility, son, no," he confirmed. "But the knowledge? Oh, yes, that can be done, using the finest data gems as storage and a Master Teacher to impart the information to him, when it's time. If Mykaal is indeed _Natoshi'ana, _when he reaches his maturity, he'll not only absorb information like the thirstiest sponge ever known, his mind will be able to sort and make use of it without further direction. It would be _easier _for him if he had others to help prepare him for such assimilation, but he could certainly manage it on his own. _If _he is a true Great One."

"He is," both Tayames and Methraad said in chorus. The latter chuckled softly. "You should know better than to question the analysis when the two geneticists who made it are in the same room with you — and one is your wife. No, there's no doubt about that; our grandson will be _Natoshi'ana, _that much is certain. Hopefully, the end of our world will be less assured."

All the others agreed, especially the two men who had been major participants in the drive project that had been so terribly subverted. Another matter was on Adyrel's mind. "If the probes can be refitted to act as escape vehicles, couldn't more of our children be saved if others were built?"

To her disappointment, many heads in the room shook, dispelling that hopeful thought. "There aren't any in production at the moment, only the two in storage," Methraad sadly informed her. "A new design has been in development, and it was decided over a year ago to conserve resources by suspending the probe deployment program until the new ones were ready, sometime next year. Even if we started to build more of the old type at once, there would barely be enough time to complete a dozen or so before the end comes, and they would _still_ require another two months to gain the necessary charge for a hyperspace jump."

Shenaal sighed. "As it is, we of the educational centers will be hard pressed to complete the data gems for the full spectrum of disciplines, arts, and history in time to send with him. It can be done, but it will require diverting many people to the project, and we'll need to start as soon as possible. A project of this scope will require the approval of the Council, since there is still some doubt as to the Destiny of our world."

"Some," Varaan said with deep regret, "but not as much as I could hope. The... person responsible for the accident provided me with all the information he had concerning the modifications he made to my designs, but it isn't enough to easily determine a means of undoing the vortex before it's too late. We'll continue to try, but..." He shook his head as his voice trailed off into silence.

Tayames considered her younger daughter's bondbrother with a hard expression, though it wasn't meant to indict him. "Has the Glaupek who did this offered to come forward to our Council and admit to his guilt?" There was no need for her to explain how she knew it was the fault of a Glaupek; emotions were running so high that with so many of the emotionally sensitive people in the same room, they could almost taste what was being felt but not said.

"He did," Varaan confirmed, "and without any prompting from me. But I told him that he should confess to you and my father first, in private. After that, if you still believe that there is anything to be gained by having him grovel to all our people for something he cannot change, then so be it. But I believe all our time and energies would be better spent in seeking solutions, not vengeance. If we succeed in stopping the vortex from destroying our system, then we can determine suitable punishment and restitution. If we don't... Well, then, all that anger will have been wasted, wouldn't it?"

The two who were Elders agreed with that assessment, as did most everyone else. Dynraas was still disgruntled, stinging from having the project ruined by a tough-hided, thick-skulled Glaupek with a superiority complex, but he didn't protest, as Varaan was still the project leader, and his position was damnably reasonable. But if they _did _manage to undo the disaster that Koan Rii had caused, the merchant would hear from him, oh, yes, and he would definitely be punished for his underhanded, thoughtless ways.

Methraad, as the senior of the two Elders present, drew the final conclusion. "If we are agreed, then, Tayames and I will assemble a proposal and the necessary requests for permission to begin this project and present it to the full Council as soon as possible. Shenaal, see to whatever must be done to prepare the items our children have requested for our grandson. We will have any funding and additional staff you require available to you once the project is approved."

"Then you believe it _will _be?" Kyrel asked, almost afraid to hope.

Her mother smiled at her, softly, sadly. "My dear daughter, if you can believe in the Destiny of your son despite all the conventional wisdom that argues against it, the Council will surely believe in it as well. It's vastly preferable to look through a tiny window of hope that Destiny opens to us in a time of great need than it is to stare into a vast pit of despair, without bottom or hope. This will give them something positive to act upon, to believe in. Mykaal may well be the last of our people, but his reach will far exceed us all — _if _he is given the chance."

ooo

Thus the project to save the civilization and technology of the Ayalthans and transplant the seeds of it on another world began. The news of this Destiny spread like wildfire once the Council had approved it, and it reached the ears of Koan Rii before he was able to depart and hurry back to his family on Glaupek. The idea of the Ayalthans saving one potentially exceptional child — a boy who would otherwise have been no more important than any other child of their people — by sending him to another world touched the merchant, in more ways than one.

And so it was that when Koan boarded a private courier ship that would return him to Glaupek even more quickly than he had come, he brought with him a crated item that would be a gift for his wife — and his son. After all, if a child of one of their worlds deserved a chance to live and there were two pods available for modification, why shouldn't the second be used to save a _truly_ exceptional child of the Glaupek?

* * *

><p>"He stole it," Wayne groaned as Megamind came to the end of his story. "First my father stole the designs to build something he shouldn't have tampered with, starting the disaster that destroyed all of our planets and peoples, and then he <em>stole<em> the ship he sent me away in! Didn't this guy know how to do _anything_ without stealing? Is that a problem with people with too much money and power all over the universe?"

Still leaning back against the wall with Roxanne beside him, there to offer support and comfort but also listening with intense interest, Megamind shrugged as he finished his tale and the water Warden Alvarez had brought for him. "I don't know, though I suppose it could be. Having a lot does make some people think they deserve to have anything they want, by whatever means are necessary. I must admit, I found it interesting that your birth father had some traits in common with your adoptive one — though I have a hard time picturing Lord Scott as being hard enough to act like a robber baron."

"You'd be surprised," Wayne confessed with a sigh. "He came across as very mild-mannered to most people, but at work, he could be ruthless, and at home he was a classic passive-aggressive tyrant. Whatever he wanted was the law, and there was no arguing with it. I know a lot of people think that it was my mother's coddling that made me such a brat, but she was really trying to counterbalance my father's demanding nature. He wanted me to use my powers for profit — if not the monetary kind, then the kind that would enhance the Scott name and reputation, and _then _bring in more money. He hated that I used the name Metro Man, he just wanted me to stick with Scott for everything, so that there'd never be any questioning my connection to the family and its corporations."

Both his former foe and never-girlfriend looked at him in astonishment. "Wow," Roxanne said after taking a moment to wrap her mind around that fact. "I never knew that about you and your family, Wayne."

"It's not something I'm comfortable talking about, or proud of," the musician admitted. "I kept quiet about it at first because I knew it'd make things even harder for Mom if I ever told people, and more recently 'cause I didn't think it was right to speak ill of the dead. But... yeah, that's the way things were. Weird to think that my real father was kinda the same way when it came to business, just on a bigger scale. I wonder how he would've done as a father if things hadn't gone down the way they did while I was still a baby?"

"We'll never know," Megamind said as he tossed the empty bottle toward a wastebasket halfway across the room.

It would've missed the mark if Wayne hadn't given it a little puff of superbreath to correct the trajectory. He then looked back at the blue hero with a sheepish smile. "It's amazing that they were able to send all this information with you. So, I was saved because I was the son of an over-ambitious merchant who felt guilty for destroying our solar system, and you were saved because you were a genuinely rare prodigy who might have a destiny in saving the universe — or at least the Earth. I think I like your reason for being here a lot more than mine. There I was as a bratty kid, telling you that you had no business being here, when the truth is that _I _was the one who didn't belong here. Kinda ironic, isn't it?"

Though he smirked slightly to hear his ex-nemesis admit it, Megamind couldn't find it in him to be cruel about it, not knowing all the things he now knew. "Very. But you didn't know how you'd come to be here, any more than I knew why my parents — and apparently most of my people — believed I should be saved. I always knew I was different, and I liked to think of myself as special to make up for how much being so different hurt, but until last night, I honestly had no idea that I _was _special, in a truly incredible way. I'm still trying to come to grips with it, probably will be for a long time."

"It's an awful lot to take in," Roxanne acknowledged gently. "Give yourself that time, sweetie. It's a big change in how you see the world, and yourself."

Wayne nodded. "Even more than it is for me. Though it makes me even more sorry for how I treated you from the start, Megs. We really should've been friends, and I should've been apologizing to you for what my father did."

Again, the slim shoulders shrugged. "Like I said, you didn't know, neither of us did. And if my parents were right, I was born for a Destiny that wasn't meant to be fulfilled on my homeworld. If your father hadn't done what he did in stealing my uncle's work, I probably would've wound up rotting away on some protected little pedestal on Ayalthis, feeling bored and frustrated and unfulfilled because that wasn't where I was _supposed_ to be — rather like _you_ started to feel, just a few years ago. More cosmic irony, isn't it?"

Both his wife and his erstwhile adversary looked at Megamind with considerable surprise. "Do you honestly believe it, that coming here to Earth was your destiny?" Wayne wondered, finding it hard to believe.

But the ex-villain was quite calm about it. "I _know_ it was. After all, the other half of my soul wasn't anywhere in our home system; she was here on Earth. And we were meant to be _together,_ not a galaxy apart."

Wayne was genuinely startled by that very matter-of-fact declaration; Roxanne smiled and nuzzled her blue hero's cheek before kissing it. "And I know you mean it," she told him fondly. "Don't look so surprised, Wayne. I believe it, too."

The big lug blinked and shook himself to get out of his shocked stupor. "I guess you do — and really, it makes a lot of sense. It sure would explain how the two of you could come together after all those years of kidnapping and bickering! Destiny. I don't know if I believe in it for myself, but then, maybe my being here and working as a superhero for so many years was a kind of destiny, too — only this one was to do time for what my real father did."

He looked at Roxanne. "Are you planning to bring this up in tomorrow's interview?"

"Not unless you want to," she replied. "This might come off as a kind of excuse to some people, especially since right at the moment, the only proof we have of what happened before the two of you came here is in a recording device that we can't just take clips from to show the audience."

"That's true," Megamind confirmed, though one could see the workings of his mind shifting into a higher gear. "Though it's not impossible to transfer the data to different media. It wouldn't have the depth of the direct neural feed via the Teacher, so a lot of the powerful emotional aspects would be reduced or lost, and it would require the design and construction of an appropriate transference system — a few weeks' worth of work, at most, but definitely not something that could literally be done overnight. It's a pity that none of us have psionic powers to allow direct communication from one mind to another — though _that_ could be achieved with the proper instrumentality as well, and come to think of it, there _are _some indications that telepathic abilities weren't entirely unknown among my people, though they were generally an extension of our native emotional states and natural empathic capacities, so even if I _did _develop some form of that power at this stage in my life, it's not likely to work well with anyone but the people with whom I already share a strong emotional bond."

Wayne's jaw hung open as he listened to the reformed villain's mild babble-fit. He finally needed to swallow, putting his voice back on track. "Okay, I'll take that as a no, can't be done right now. Cripes, little buddy, are you deliberately trying to show me that this story about you being some kind of exceptional genius even for your own people is true? 'Cause it's okay, I already believe you are — I always have, to be honest."

Megamind shook himself out of it. "What? Oh, no, I was just thinking out loud. I wasn't expecting you to want to use any of what I just learned tomorrow; it really isn't revelant — _relevant _to the interview. What your birth father did that you knew nothing about until five minutes ago doesn't have any bearing at all on what _you _did a few years ago."

He cocked his big head as he considered things for a moment. "Now, if you want to get into the ways your _adoptive _father messed with your head and tried pushing people around, leaving you to clean up his messes and the family name..."

The musician snorted. "Yeah, I suppose that _does_ come into the whole mess — though when it came to leaving the city in the lurch, I knew what I was doing. If somebody wants to call it a delayed teenage rebellion, they can knock themselves out, but it doesn't change the fact that _I_'m responsible for all the choices I made."

The green eyes watched him curiously as he spoke, their expression thoughtfully amused. "It seems that I'm not the only one who needed to grow up," Megamind chuckled.

Roxanne was about to protest when Wayne forestalled it. "No, no, he's right. We were both stuck playing out our childhood issues even though we were grown adults, and we both need to face up to it, acknowledge our mistakes, and try to move on. That's what the interview is really about, me facing my mistakes, making a clean breast of it to everyone I hurt, and picking up whatever pieces are left so I can move on with my life with a clear conscience. Megs did that three years ago, and now it's my turn."

He saw the small frown twitch across the blue face. "Okay, I know, it's Mykaal, I'll try to remember it more often. Thanks for telling me this, about why we both ended up here. You've given me enough to chew on for now. Maybe one day soon, if I haven't been tarred and feathered and ridden out of town on a rail, you can tell me the rest of the story."

Megamind accepted the implied apology. "Whenever we're both free. It's not all terrible, Wayne. Your father may have been an impatient, foolish jerk with delusions of grandeur, but he did love you. So did your mother."

A smile slowly crept across the retired hero's chiseled-featured face. "Thanks. It may not change anything, but it's good to know." He pushed himself up from the chair where he had settled to listen to the long answer to the question he'd asked about their beginnings. "If the two of you are okay now, I'm gonna go check with the warden, see if he needs me for anything else, then head back home. Mom told me that I should do this, but I know she'll be glad to have me back soon. She's got a birthday dinner party planned for tonight with some old family friends, and she'll fret if I'm not back hours before it starts."

"Say hi to her for us," Roxanne said, watching him stretch before heading to the door. "And happy birthday, Wayne."

Megamind frowned at her, though not angrily. "Actually, his real birthday would be on — happy birthday, Wayne!" he interrupted himself when his wife gave him a look that said he was providing too much, and possibly unwanted, information. He added a wide, cheesy grin just for good measure, to make sure Roxanne was happy.

Wayne gave a short bark of a laugh. "You can tell me when my real birthday is when you tell me more of that story, little buddy. Promise." He then gave them both a brief salute in farewell and headed out.

Megamind grumbled again once the door was closed. "Maybe I should also tell him that for a Glaupek, _he'd _be considered the undersized runt of the litter!"

Roxanne blinked. "Is that true?" She had a hard time imagining that a guy who was pushing seven feet in height and half that in breadth could be considered undersized, anywhere in any galaxy.

Her spouse sniffed huffily, folding his arms across his chest. "Well, actually, no, but it might at least make him reconsider this habit of using insulting nicknames for _other_ people!"

She smiled now as she gave him a peck on the lips. "I'll talk to him about it. After all, you reminding him from time to time has gotten him to _almost _remember that I prefer Roxanne to Roxie. Are you feeling up to going back to work with the techs, or do you just want to head on home now?"

Megamind considered the options, then sighed. "I should probably at least go back and reassure Norm and Lee and the warden that I'm all right, that this wasn't their fault. And if there's anything I can do to help get the system up and running again that won't take very long, I suppose I should do it. It _was_ my fault that things blew so spectacularly, though whatever knockout gas they used _is_ giving me a headache."

"Then we can make it quick," she decided. "If Hal has to spend another day or two in regular isolation, they can always put the fear of God in him when he's moved back by telling him the whole system's been upgraded to use x-ray scans and lasers if he so much as scratches himself in the wrong place."

"To hold a _real_ criminal threat, it _should_ be upgraded, but for that idiot?" Megamind stuck out his tongue and made a most eloquent _pffft. _"All they need to do is turn the lights and the locks back on and take away the TV. To him, that'd probably be worse punishment than bringing out the rack and thumbscrews."

"Okay, but try not to take too long. 'Cause no matter what, I'm taking you home for a nap when you're done. That should get rid of the headache, and I want your head clear by the time Minion gets home."

"Why? Unless they changed things pretty radically, anything he has to tell us about the parade won't require that much concentration."

"Oh, I know that, I just want you focused so you can answer the part of Wayne's question you didn't cover." When he gave her a profoundly perplexed look, she elaborated. "You told us why he and you were sent to Earth, but you didn't mention why Minion was sent along. Is he _really_ supposed to be some kind of bodyguard or lackey or slave to you?"

Megamind made an odd face as he accepted her hand up from the cot. "Not a lackey, though I hate to admit I treated him like one for too many years. A guardian, yes, you already know that his mother thought he had the potential to be a _min'yaaun, _a protector. But that was seldom a one-on-one thing on our homeworld. Our people worked alongside the Potrell, as equals, and some were close friends, but if one of them acted as a protector to one of my people, it was a freely made choice, never an assignment or an obligation."

"Hmm." The reporter hardly seemed convinced. "So why I have I heard you call Minion a 'dimwitted creation of science' when you lose your temper with him?"

The mortified blush that suddenly rushed through Megamind's entire head and neck turned his skin a violent purple-red. "Ahh... Well, I, uh... I was referring to his _robot_ body, not him. _Really_. And if that was an insult, I guess I included myself in it, since I was the dimwit who created it. I've treated him badly, I admit it, but Minion has always been my friend, sometimes even my caretaker, but never my _slave _or my forced servant. He may not have been old enough to choose to be my guardian, but he was sent with me because of a choice made by _his _parents..."

* * *

><p><em>To be continued...<em>


	7. A Banquet of Consequences

_Author's Note: As things continue to progress in a most positive direction with my husband's recovery from surgery, I find I'm able to do a bit of writing in more sober veins, and so my Muse finally let me finish the next chapter of this tale. Sorry for the delays between postings, but as is said somewhere in this chapter, better late than never! As things improve in Real Life, I'm hoping that the writing will come more easily for both this story and my other WIP, "Pin Up Boy." Thanks as always to all my readers, reviewers, and those who have wished my hubby and I well and kept us in their thoughts and prayers — I sincerely wish I had the time and energy to answer each and every one of you personally, but I promise you, I appreciate every kind word and thought. Now, on with the story!_

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><p>Chapter Seven<br>A Banquet of Consequences

Less than three months before their top scientists predicted the end of life as they knew it — only a few days over two months before Mykaal was due to begin his life outside the womb — Kyrel was in the garden of her home, meditating upon the fruit trees on the hill beyond, whose blossoms were now blown away in the late spring winds, the flowers grown into the beginnings of the season's fruit. It was more than a session of mere reflection; Toomia and Tori were with her, providing their support as she concentrated on guiding the energies of her body to sustain and nourish her growing and increasingly active son.

Toomia was in her usual cybernetic body, while Tori was in a small habitat bubble, held by Kyrel against the now considerable bulge of her belly. The young Potrell was not yet old enough to have the neural implant that would allow him to direct an android body with his mind, nor were his growing but still tiny fins and tendrils large enough to move the water inside the selectively-permeable ball to make it roll and move, but for now, he was content to be inside the sphere, gently cradled where he could feel not only Kyrel's affectionate friendship, but the bright warmth of the person eagerly growing within her.

Tori was speaking a little now, not in the language that both his own people and the blue humans spoke in the land above the water, although he understood much of what was said to him well enough. The Potrell's underwater tongue was only audible in those environs, and in his little ball, Tori could neither hear his mother speaking it from within her android body, nor could he speak it and be heard by anyone else. But oddly, this bothered him not in the slightest. When he was being held by Kyrel, his small habitat nestled comfortably against the curve of her gravid belly, he was only interested in what he could _feel_ there, the woman's placid channeling of energy to her unborn son, and the strengthening presence of Mykaal in his pre-birth slumber.

"He tells me he can feel your little one wanting to wake up more and more each day," Toomia explained to the mother-to-be after she mentioned how very intent and eager the young ichthyoid was whenever they were together, especially during these meditative sessions. "But Tori knows it's still too soon, and so he tells Mykaal to stay asleep, to wait, and he'll let him know when the time is right."

Kyrel smiled softly, one long-fingered hand caressing the curve of little Tori's sphere. The young Potrell's golden-brown eyes were wide as he pressed the lower part of his face against the part of the sphere in direct contact with the woman's pregnant belly, his cheeks and lips moving against the clear substance as if he was attempting to speak to it in a tactile way. Kyrel could occasionally feel the faint vibration of hums and pops passing through the globe to her bare skin.

"Do you know what he's trying to say to Mykaal now?" the pregnant woman asked.

"Not entirely," Toomia admitted. "When he's with me and I ask him, he says he's encouraging your son to wait and to stay, but most of the rest of it seems to be only baby nonsense."

Kyrel's brilliant green eyes looked up at her friend. "Most?" she repeated, asking the greater question with her inflections alone.

The female ichthyoid smiled crookedly. "There's no precise translation for the other words he uses; most nearly, he calls your son 'little brother.' Tori loves his sisters, but he isn't as close to them as they are to each other, and there are no male younglings in our city in the Dusiomi who are near his age, all are older. He feels the sleeping presence of Mykaal, and thinks of him as the younger brother he is caring for, helping to keep safe until his time comes."

The woman's smile was wide and bright. "He does have the makings of a _min'yaaun, _doesn't he? Not of land or sea, but of another he knows only through feelings."

"He does," Toomia said proudly. "The protectors often show such traits quite young. Tori might have been truly great in his own way, if he'd had the chance." She sighed, her eyes dimming with sadness. "If the river of Fate continues to flow as we fear is inevitable, I'll be sorry to see it carry these two apart. I think they might have become close friends if given a chance, but that is not to be."

Kyrel understood her melancholy. "Nothing is certain, these days," she admitted. "Varaan and my father have been keeping us abreast of the efforts to collapse the vortex, and Eliaan has been working diligently to alter the probe into a suitable escape vehicle for our son, but there's no guarantee that any of our efforts will end as we wish. The wormhole continues to expand erratically, and the end may come _too_ soon. And one of the two probes that should've been in storage vanished; the one that was left was the older of the two and requires more work to be properly adapted. I'm afraid that even if it's finished in time, it won't be as comfortable an ark for Mykaal as we'd like."

Toomia scowled. With her sharp teeth and the even sharper glint in her amber eyes, she looked capable of biting through the impervious metal of her android body. "Yes, and I'm sure it's all thanks to that excrement from Glaupek who started this entire crisis. It's bad enough that he'll destroy all our worlds and all their life out of selfish greed, but he had no right to steal that probe for his own brat, just because he heard how our Elders planned to save Mykaal! There's a good reason for your son to have a chance to live, but I'm sure the universe already has more than enough spawn of selfish, grasping, murdering thieves than it needs!"

The human woman clicked her tongue. "Such bitterness doesn't become you, Toomia — nor do I think it's good for little ones to hear. The Glaupek who started this disaster has gone before the Elders, and they made the decision to let him return to his family, for now. If the worst happens, they should be together to face it, and if it doesn't, his own wife has vowed to return him to us for punishment."

"But he stole the only means left to us to save another of _our _younglings!" the incensed ichthyoid cried. "All the starships are gone now, swallowed up in attempts to undo what that puling coward with more muscle than brains did — and you know as well as I do that without them, the chances of collapsing the vortex are nearly impossible! It would take an act of the Universe itself to spare us — and why should a child of the person who brought this down on us all be saved when—" Toomia abruptly choked off what she had been about to say.

But Kyrel knew what was left unsaid. "When one of your own children cannot be saved," she finished sadly. "I know that's what you've been thinking, old friend, and I must admit, I've thought such a thing myself, especially when I see how hard little Tori has been working to help Mykaal. And that's also led me to wonder: why can't we send them together?"

The elder Potrell looked at the pregnant woman, a glimmer of hope softening the anger in her eyes even as she spoke against it. "I know something of how this escape vehicle is to work, Kyrel. To reach the planet you and Eliaan have chosen, it will take a considerable hyperdrive jump and at least two full weeks of travel in normal space, and the life support resources will have little to spare by the time it arrives. Much as I want to save my Ootori, I couldn't ask this of you if it would risk having both of them die before they can even reach this haven on another world."

"I've been considering this," Kyrel admitted. She looked up at the trees for a few moments as she ordered her thoughts. "I don't want to send Mykaal all alone, and though there's no way to give the pod sufficient resources to sustain two children of my kind, I would take only a few minor adjustments to accommodate a child of the Potrell — especially one as small and young as Tori. That way, one of both of our peoples can be saved, to bring knowledge of who and what we are along with our history and those things we have learned. Our races are doomed as living creatures, thanks to the vortex, but if even one of us can personally go to give them the gifts our civilizations have to offer, then we'll at least live on in their memories as beings who truly lived and breathed and walked among them, not mere images or tales."

Toomia's wide eyes somehow became a bit wider as she listened before they narrowed in thought, her fins fluttering in anxious excitement. "If Tori can be sent with him... I would give my own life to save his, especially since it seems that he already has some emotional attachment to your son. But if we send him as he is, without the neural implant, it's doubtful that they will ever be able to communicate. Mykaal may be intelligent enough to find a way when he's older and has the resources, but that will take years. He won't even begin the Teaching until he's an adult. By then, Tori will have forgotten what he knows now for lack of use — and we've never made an implant on one so young. His body is still growing and changing so rapidly, placing the implant into his brain could kill him. At the very least, it's likely to impair his memory."

Kyrel nodded, as she was well familiar with these things. "I know it's safest to wait until he's reached the end of his second year before attempting it, but time is something we have in short supply. If we send him as he is now, the people of Terra will never think of Tori as more than an unusual pet fish. If we try to give him the implant and fail in the worst possible way, he would die here anyway, when all our worlds are destroyed. But if we try and succeed, both our sons will have a chance to survive, to become friends, and to achieve their destinies, whatever they might be."

For several minutes, Toomia watched her youngling as he intently burbled to the unborn child in the other female's womb. Tori's mood swung between childish happiness and a fierce concentration, a guardian intently watching over what he had been asked to protect and help, and yet enjoying the conversation only he understood as a youngling might enjoy a favorite game.

There was no doubt in his mother's mind that if their worlds somehow miraculously survived, Tori would someday become an excellent _min'yaaun_, very likely dedicating his life to the protection and aid of some cause or some _one_ in the lands above the waters. He so clearly enjoyed interacting with the things and peoples on the surface of Ayalthis, and he had so eagerly taken on the task of offering his emotional support to help Kyrel guide her unborn son to survive to a healthy birth, Toomia felt quite certain that Tori was meant to somehow be involved in the life of this _Natoshi'ana. _

But to send him with Mykaal was a serious risk, no matter how one looked at it. Without the implant, Tori would be reduced to a mute animal who might never be able to properly communicate with anyone, much less become a true _min'yaaun _to his younger companion. And yet placing the implant was a delicate procedure, difficult though not dangerous to the adult Potrell, somewhat more chancy to the young who were at least beyond their infancy, but potentially deadly to one so young as Tori.

Toomia had no doubt that Kyrel would make absolutely certain that the neurosurgeons who did the work would be the most highly skilled and would take the utmost care in performing the procedure on Tori, but it would be a frightening thing for him to experience, no matter what. It needed to be done with the patient at least partially conscious, so that the neural pathways could be accurately traced and the fusions to the implant made correctly. And even if all went perfectly and Tori survived physically undamaged, because he was still so small and growing, he would need the better part of two weeks to recover, and there would very likely be negative consequences to his memories. He might lose only some, or he might lose all; he might experience confusion that could be temporary, or it might be permanent. There was no way of knowing the outcome of the procedure until it had been completed and the patient recovered.

Under ordinary circumstances, Toomia would not take the chance; there was no need for it, no matter how eager Tori might be to begin a life of his own upon the land. But there was no denying that the current circumstances were anything but ordinary, and if they waited too long to begin the preparations for implant, there wouldn't be time enough to do it and for Tori to recuperate before the escape vehicle must be sent away.

The elder piscine's golden-brown eyes looked up again at the blue woman, catching her brilliant green, thoughtful gaze. She sighed softly, creating a flurry of small bubbles within her habitat. "It feels like a terrible risk to take with my youngling's life," she admitted. "But I know that it would only be terrible if he were harmed and our world survived, and in the deepest part of my being, I know that it will not. But I can't make this wholly my decision, Kyrel. Notarr must have his say — and Tori, most of all."

Kyrel accepted this, indeed, had anticipated this response. "Will Tori understand what you're wanting to do, and why it's dangerous for him?"

Toomia pondered the question for a long moment. "Intellectually?" she said at last. "No, he's still a very, very little youngling, it would be quite beyond him. But emotionally, yes, I think he'll understand quite well. After all, he understood that your Mykaal was in trouble and needed help and support and love to find his way to safety, and that was some months ago. He's also asked about my implant, and his father's."

One of Kyrel's elegant black eyebrows quirked with interest. "Did he? Was he just curious because you had something on your bodies that he didn't, or did he have some idea of what they are?"

"Just curiosity," she was assured with a wry chuckle. "Notarr tried to explain how they work and I don't believe Tori understood more than a few words of it, but he did grasp that they're what let us talk clearly with you and Eliaan and the rest of your people, and what let us live in and work with these android bodies, what makes it possible for us to have a life above the waters. He'll understand that getting the implant now will be frightening and might hurt him, but he'll also understand that if he has this done successfully, it will eventually let him be a true _min'yaaun _for your son. I think he'd like to do that for his 'little brother,' but I won't assume it without explaining things as best I can, and asking if this is what he wants."

Kyrel smiled at the ichthyoid even as she touched the nearer of her android arms. "You're a good mother, Toomia. I wish that I could have a chance to be even half so good a mother to Mykaal."

The fish snorted expressively. "You've already been as good a mother as ever lived, my friend. You've done what everyone said was impossible; you've given your heart and soul and strength to your son to make sure he will survive despite all the odds against him, and you've enlisted more than half the planet into helping make your aspirations for him a reality. I wish we both could have more time with our younglings, to see them grow into their lives and their destinies, but if we can't do more than ensure their survival, it will still be enough to know that we did all that we could for them."

The blue woman nodded, impressed as always by her small friend's wisdom. "Then ask them, Toomia, and if they're both agreeable, I'll see to making all the arrangements as soon as possible."

With one hand, she caressed the curve of Tori's habitat; the youngling glanced up at her with his big amber eyes and wide, toothy smile before burbling more words that could not be heard. "You'll make a remarkable _min'yaaun, _little one," Kyrel said softly. "Not to protect the waters or the land of _this_ planet, but to protect the last legacy of _both_ our peoples on another."

* * *

><p>Though he had given Roxanne the general gist of this tale during the drive home, Megamind waited until Minion had returned from the parade and the following festivities to tell the specifics. As they sat at the kitchen table, eating a light lunch the couple had cobbled together before the ichthyoid arrived, Minion was quiet throughout the telling, not from a lack of interest, but because the words stirred bits and pieces of very old, very blurry memories. When Megamind was finished, he remained still for a good minute more, then sighed softly.<p>

"That explains so much," the fish said at last, glad that the others had respected his need for reflection. "Like why I couldn't remember any names until something else reminded me, not even my own. And why when you first told me about me and my parents when I was just a tiny baby, I remembered my mother's eyes, watching me so carefully when I was terribly frightened, trying to reassure me and keep me calm. That was probably when they put in my implant, wasn't it?"

Though Megamind simply nodded, Roxanne shivered. "Doesn't it feel awful to remember something like that?" she wondered. She'd done a few news items on brain surgery, and no matter how calm she could be during the actual report, she always felt incredibly creeped out by even the thought of it when the report was over. "Didn't it hurt?"

But Minion shook his head. "Not that I recall. What was frightening was how strange the operating room was. I wasn't underwater — I guess they couldn't do it that way?" He looked to his ward for confirmation.

The ex-villain provided it. "It would've made things even more difficult than they were — though from what I saw of the procedure through the recording, they made sure your skin remained hydrated properly, and that you had no difficulty breathing. It's good you're a lung rather than gill breather, or it might've been even more of a problem all around — though I'm sure they had extremely advanced facilities to keep your people completely safe during these procedures. It's what I would've done, after all. And it might sound disturbing to be awake through that kind of an operation, Roxanne, but the brain itself actually has very little physical sensation, in terms of pain. To someone that age, the experience of undergoing surgery could be quite frightening all by itself."

"I'm sure that's why I remember my mother being there with me, she knew I'd be scared and wanted to reassure me so everything would work out as well as possible." Minion's typically cheerful expression fell, though only to mere wistfulness, not deep melancholy. "I just wish I'd been able to remember her a long time ago."

Megamind did understand his feelings. "I wish I'd been able to remember a _lot _of things a long time ago — but better late than never. And really, it could've been worse."

Though she was in full sympathy, Roxanne couldn't help the snort that escaped her. "That's true, Minion. You could've had parents like mine and remembered every awful second of life with them."

She'd meant it as a self-deprecating joke, but the piscine took it somewhat differently, and surprisingly positively. "I suppose that's true. Sometimes, forgetting can be a blessing. If I'd remembered all of this from the start, I know I would've missed our home and my family so much, I wouldn't have made a very good guardian."

His boss thought otherwise. "Of course you would've, it's in your nature, like being a flamboyant show-off is part of mine. It _does_ seem that the procedure did do some damage to your memories, but not much that probably wouldn't have been lost or diminished in the long term, anyway. What I learned last night did include some information about your people, and while mine tended to have exceptionally retentive memories as the norm, the Potrell's were much closer to those of Earth humans. Not many people here have memories of _anything _that happened before they were a year old, Minion, and you do. It may not be perfect, but it's still remarkable."

The fish accepted that with a faintly abashed but grateful smile and nod. "Thank you, sir," he said most sincerely as he started to get up to collect the dirty dishes since his kitchen helper bot, Madeleine, was in her recharge cycle, but Roxanne was quicker.

"I can handle this, Minion," she assured him before he could protest. "After all, I was a waitress back in college, and I wound up busing tables more often than I care to remember. I can do this in my sleep — one of my many hidden talents. I'm just surprised you didn't whip up a whole gaggle of brainbots to help you with menial chores like this, instead of just making Madeleine."

"We tried that a couple of times before you moved in," Minion told her. "They usually wound up either breaking the dishes or playing with them."

"Pinky and Madeleine don't," the brunette pointed out as she took the first load of dishes to the counter. "Since they manage without any problems, maybe you need to make a few more female brainbots, or at least give the regular kitchen helpers less dog-like programming."

"Actually, the more obviously dog-like behavior isn't due to programming, it's a side effect of the cloned brain cells in their processors," Megamind explained. "Though actually, I can see at least a dozen ways of adjusting certain algorithms to compensate for the less agreeable canine traits, which would help to further 'domesticate' them — and though I haven't made any female brainbots other than Madeleine since the experiment with Pinky, I can see now that I made it harder than it needed to be because I went about the whole thing the wrong way, and if I'd just made a few simple adjustments in the cloning process prior to the point that determines a kind of rudimentary gender predisposition..."

"Just don't go making a whole army of female brainbots," Roxanne interrupted, seeing the beginnings of another babble fit. "That could wind up causing a whole new set of problems."

"But a few less temperamental bots to help out around the living quarters might actually be nice," Minion opined as he at least collected his own dirty dishes to hand to Roxanne. "Sir, were things like genetics and cloning part of the information the sleep teacher gave you last night?"

One could see the blue hero pull his thought processes back into the moment. "Hmm? Oh, no, not exactly, it's just that my brain seems to be defragging itself now, incorporating new data and cleaning up old."

"Then the sleep teaching wouldn't have this same kind of effect on Mrs. Roxanne and I if we did use it to see these things for ourselves?"

Megamind was confident. "No, I'm sure it wouldn't. My brain really _is _different, not just big. It's the main part of the genetic fluke that my grandparents saw in me long before I was even born. For you and Roxanne and anyone else who used it, you'd be shown the story of our worlds and what happened to them, and how we came to be sent here. For me, it was a little more, like it flipped the switch to start an engine that had just been idling, at best."

"Then once your brain gets used to this, it shouldn't feel so strange to you anymore," his wife observed as she carried the last of the dishes over to the sink and dishwasher. "That should be a relief, seeing how it's been upsetting you."

But rather than express evidence of being reassured, Megamind fidgeted. "Well... if this was all there was to it, I suppose it would."

Both his spouse and his fishy friend looked at him, curious. "There's more?" the latter asked.

The ex-villain nodded and fidgeted for a few moments more, then suddenly got up and left the room with a "be back in a minute" gesture. When he returned, he had with him the two boxes that he'd found in the pod the night before.

"This is the Master Teacher," he said as he set the boxes on the table and opened the smaller one. He lifted out the supple silver-blue band with its dark and intricate filigree designs and a single pea-sized data gem that had been in the box with it.

Roxanne had rejoined them at the table to have a closer look. She whistled softly. "That's what taught you all about your language and your people and everything while you were asleep for four hours?" she asked.

"It was actually three hours and thirty-eight minutes," Megamind corrected a tad sheepishly as he returned the items to their case. "Because it establishes a direct neural input to the student's mind, it works at whatever pace the individual brain is capable of assimilating the data."

The reporter grinned and kissed his cheek. "And you being so exceptional, it worked even faster than your father thought it would. That's great, sweetie, I told you I prefer brains over brawn, and this just proves I couldn't've picked anyone better. So this would work on anyone, just at different speeds."

The blue head nodded, relieved that she wasn't bothered by any of this. "_This _would," he clarified, tapping the data gem. "My father had it made so that the information could be given to anyone who wants it. But not this." He set his hand on the larger box, a shimmery dark blue case about a foot square and several inches deep.

As his gesture drew attention to it, Minion noted the design on the upper surface. "That looks like some kind of coat of arms."

"It's the emblem for the Ayalthan Ministry of Education," Megamind said as he traced the complex design with the tip of one long finger. "It's what my mother asked her father to have prepared for me, to be sent with me so I could have access to it when I was old enough to use it."

He hesitated, then laid the palm of his right hand on the flat metallic surface, covering the elaborate design. Beneath his hand, there was a brief flash of light, following the lines and curves of the emblem, and when he removed his hand, the surface split into four equal triangles that slid back into the corners of the box, revealing its contents. Inside were row after row of the tiny pea-sized data gems, glistening in the overhead lights of the kitchen. They were so tightly and neatly packed, they looked like columns of uncolored pixels, waiting to have their hue applied to make an image. There were at least a thousand of the stones visible, and this was plainly only the topmost layer.

The blue hand reached out toward the box again, but only hovered above the contents, not actually touching them. "All the knowledge and history and culture of my people and our world, recorded and keyed for me to use, to learn from and to pass on to the people of Earth." His voice was soft, his tone something of both awed reverence and nervous shock. "What I learned last night was what my parents thought I'd need to know before I decided what to do with this."

Both Roxanne and Minion looked at the sparkling gem-like stones, amazed. "They expected you to learn all of _this_?" his wife finally asked. "That would take _years, _even if you could!"

"I can," the blue genius replied without hesitation and with unusual modesty, not sure how he knew, but fully aware that he was speaking truthfully. "But they didn't _expect_ me to. They _offered _this to me, and hoped I'd be able to decide what I wanted to do with it when the time came, for myself, and for Earth."

The whole thing was quite mind-boggling to the reporter, who had seen a lot of very boggling things over the last ten or twelve years. "And _do_ you know what you want?" she asked, trying hard not to pressure him, but undeniably curious to know what he was thinking. This was something huge, after all, the Destiny he'd always talked about now very present and looking them right in the eye. Megamind had always displayed an intense hunger for knowledge, and now he had a massive banquet set out just for him, a banquet that would take years to be consumed, and would certainly change all their lives — and could possibly change him in ways Roxanne wasn't sure she wanted, but also couldn't deny him.

Fortunately, after only a moment's pause, he shook his head. "Not yet. How could I know? I just learned that this exists, and exactly why my parents wanted so badly to save me. I haven't had even a day to take it all in, or think about what it might mean, how it could impact _all_ our lives. It's going to take time to figure out what I want to do with it, and I'm not going to leave either of your feelings out of my decision."

Roxanne was immensely relieved to hear it. "I'll be behind you no matter what you choose," she told him with sincere affection. "Just don't forget there are people counting on you to be there for them — and not just as a superhero."

His answering smile was small, but earnest. "I won't forget," he promised.

"Are you even sure these things work?" Minion wondered, indicating the small stones in the box. He was less concerned about his ward's choices, since he'd lived with the notion that Megamind had some kind of important destiny all his life. He was mostly glad to finally see proof that it was something positive rather than being a supervillain. "They might've gotten damaged or erased on the trip here, or during all these years of storage. And did they come with some kind of index to tell you which one has what information? They all look the same to me."

"They're not," his ward said confidently, remembering some of what he had learned during the night. Very carefully, he extended his finger to one gem and touched it with the very tip. It instantly began to glow softly, much like the data sphere with the recordings from his parents. "Quantum Thermodynamics." He touched the next stone. "Extragalactic Astrophysics." The next. "Magnetohydrodynamics. Nucleosynthesis. Chromodynamics."

He lifted his hand and waved at the rest of the data gems in that part of the box. "This entire section contains instruction on a very wide range of advanced physics related subjects. All I have to do is touch the stone, and it sends me information on the contents. It won't do it for anyone else because they were all made specifically for me, to respond to my unique genetic code. I learned all of this from the Teacher last night," he added, explaining just how he knew these things.

"That actually makes a lot of sense," Roxanne opined after taking a few moments to absorb all she'd just heard. "If these things are keyed only to respond to you, nobody else could take them and use the information in ways I don't even want to think about." Her shudder was most eloquent. "Advanced technology in the wrong hands — they'd either use it to destroy the world or make us all slaves. But without you and that sleep teaching device, these are nothing but a lot of shiny little marbles."

She looked at the artfully elegant band that sent the information from the data storage stones to the sleeping mind of the student, and smiled. "I thought this was a bracelet or a necklace when you first picked it up. I have uglier expensive jewelry, y'know. After seeing this and your de-gun, I think an artistic nature must run in your people — even when it goes the spikes and studs and leather route."

"I think it was in both our peoples," Minion said with a nod. "I may not have a lot of clear memories from before we left, but there are things I've seen in my dreams all my life, of a beautiful place underwater, built by my people and Sir's working together. The place has a lot of the same kind of intricate and elegant shapes and designs, just made out of different materials, for different uses. I used to think it was just some kind of fantasy, but now I think it's probably bits and pieces of things from our homeworld that I remember best when I'm asleep."

Touched, Roxanne patted the nearer of the ichthyoid's robotic shoulders. "I wish I could've seen your world with my own eyes, but I'm glad you have good memories, even if they aren't clear. Your planet really must've been a beautiful place."

"It was," Megamind said wistfully, touching the sides of the bigger box to close it. "By the time I saw anything of Ayalthis, everyone knew the end was definitely coming very soon, so most of what I remember has very intense feelings connected to it, either fear or resignation. But I do remember one thing that was incredibly beautiful, so beautiful that I'd wondered if it was a true memory, or just a dream — until last night..."

* * *

><p><em>To be continued...<em>


	8. Gift of Hope

_Author's Note: Sorry to keep folks hanging for so long between chapters, but the Muse really does want to alternate between this and "Pin-Up Boy," right now. I guess it's just as well, since it keeps me from getting either too serious or too silly. As ever, thanks to all who have read and/or reviewed, and to those who continue to offer their support while my husband continues his recovery from cancer surgery. So far, so good on that front, and I hope all keeps going so well. Now, on with the story!_

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><p>Chapter Eight<br>Gift of Hope

It was no longer of question of _if_, only of _when_.

Their system and all the worlds and all the life upon them were doomed. The artificially created unstable wormhole had defied all attempts to stabilize it or collapse it, and had already taken many lives in the attempt alone. Once all the stardrive-capable scout ships had been swallowed in brave efforts to put a stop to the thing, every intrasystem ship the Ayalthans had available to them were called into service, and even braver crews volunteered to to take them and the equipment that might close the vortex to the very brink of it, knowing full well that if the attempt failed, their ships and their lives would be forfeit. Seven hundred Ayalthans and five hundred Potrell had sacrificed their lives in these efforts; a hundred and fifty Glaupeks who were skilled pilots had been lost as well, since even their great powers could not save them from this nightmare that had been created by one of their own.

By the time the last of the ships was lost, still more lives had been consumed by the beast. Cobin, being nearest to the thing, had been devoured first, the planet and all its inhabitants swallowed up in a process that had taken several days, as the vortex hadn't yet grown as large or as powerful as it would become. Two weeks later, Batuu and its unique reptilavian people were lost, the process going more quickly now that the beast had eaten both Cobin and uninhabited Lihaar. It expanded more quickly after that, and their greater distance from the inner worlds had thus far spared both Ayalthis and Glaupek — but not for long. As the black hole continued to expand, coming closer and closer to their sun with each passing day, its burgeoning gravity pulled the outer worlds closer — slowly, to be sure, but inexorably. Their orbits were being compressed, though they wouldn't quite converge before the beast reached their star and devoured it.

That would be the end. With the mass and energy of the system's star feeding it, the vortex would explode in size and strength, it would swiftly reach out to grasp all the fuel available in the system, and the remaining worlds would be swept in to feed its voracious appetite. By all observations and calculations, there would be only a matter of hours between the loss of the sun and the destruction of the two remaining inhabited worlds. The scientists studying the situation had determined an approximate day and time, but they acknowledged that they could not be exact, since the vortex had a history of sudden and erratic expansion.

It was a horrifying situation, and even the Ayalthans with their powerful belief in destiny were terrified by the knowledge that the end was upon them, inescapable doom. And yet amid all the fear and grief, they held fast to the one small bright point of hope that was left to them: for the first time in almost a thousand years — and the last time, forever — a Great One had been born among them. He had been carried to birth, had come into the world surprisingly strong and healthy and seemingly normal, and he had survived the three days of post-natal adjustment, alive and well.

On his fourth day, he had been taken to a beautiful plaza at the center of their capitol city, where the planet's Council of Elders assembled whenever they made announcements of especial importance, to be presented to all the peoples of Ayalthis. It was a magnificent place, an exquisite achievement that combined nature and art, fashioned with loving patience over thousands of years. The broad, flat surface of the plaza was an elaborate design of inlaid filigree work, made by many careful hands out of all the gemstones of the land and the shells and corals of the sea, some polished to glittering brilliance, others left in their simple, natural state. The vast round mosaic was surrounded by a ring of water, which began as the spill of a waterfall that plunged down from a rocky cliffside that was the head of the plaza. Three wide bridges of carved wood and intricately worked metals crossed over the split streams from the waterfall, one at each of the three remaining compass points, giving access to those who gathered there. Narrow bands of carefully tended gardens grew on either side of the flowing streams; beds of colorful flowers from all over Ayalthis flourished on the inner side, while trees of all heights and species stood as ancient sentinels on the outer ring. In the streams themselves grew specimens of those flora that thrived in all the fresh waters of their world. And the sounds of the wind flowing through the branches of the trees and the water singing over stone provided the music most suitable to the place, as they sang the song of the world itself.

On this day, just after the sunset of what their scientists told them would be no more the fifth from the last their world would see, the Ayalthan ruling Council and those who had worked hard to make all the preparations came to this marvelous place that would soon be gone, to bring the fruits of their last labors to the little one for whom they had been made.

"He is _Natoshi'ana, _beyond question," his mother's mother Tayames declared to all those assembled, his father's father Methraad standing beside her to offer his own professional ratification of her findings. A large three dimensional display of the genetic scan made only hours earlier hovered over the plaza, confirming it for all to see in bright patterns of complex color that delineated the newborn's unique and rare gene structure. "Though he is not sickly or feeble in appearance as those of his rare kind who came before him have been in infancy, there is no question that Mykaal Thejhan possesses the mind and gifts and the full potential of a Great One."

The baby in question, held in his mother's arms as his proud and protective father held her in his own, burbled happily, as if aware of what his grandmother was saying. In generalities, he was, though he had no true language skills as yet. Mykaal had been astonishingly alert and aware since he'd fully awakened from the birth trauma a day after coming into the world. Whether or not he actually understood the words being spoken was immaterial; he clearly perceived the emotions of others, and reacted to them. His parents had been very careful to shield him from the fear permeating these tumultuous times, not wanting him to be upset or made ill by it, but despite their best efforts, he would often pick up on their own sadness.

Yet rather than cry or become sad himself, he would babble and giggle and smile all the more, as if deliberately attempting to cheer them. And in their hearts, both Kyrel and Eliaan knew he was doing just that. The love and caring and support that had been poured out to him while in the womb was now reflected in his irrepressibly cheerful spirit, a thing for which his parents were intensely grateful. Rather than be dismayed by the sadness around him, he tried to soothe it, as he himself had been soothed and calmed so that he could be born and survive. It was vastly preferable to being a fretful or moody child, for in the times to come, he would likely need all the optimism and cheerful attitude that he could muster.

Now, he smiled and made happy baby sounds as he looked out at all the people assembled around him and his parents. His brilliant green eyes, so huge in his tiny face, saw the pretty colors of the genetic display and was as fascinated by it as ordinary babies would be mesmerized by colorful mobiles dangling above them. And beyond that, he appeared perfectly aware of the assembled Council, a thousand members strong, resplendent in their finest formal garb that was worn only for the most solemn official occasions. Even the Elders of the Potrell wore suitable finery, of different styles and types that complemented their android bodies, in the hues of the watery environs that were most fitting to their culture. Beyond them were gathered many more thousands of citizens who came to offer their respects and their hopes to the little one who would be their final legacy to the universe. The small ceremonial lights they held were their symbols of that hope, twinkling in the deepening twilight like an ocean of tiny stars flickering bravely in a gathering sea of gloom.

And higher still, streaking through the deepening twilight skies were the dancing ribbons of light that were a rare treat to see on nights during the colder months of the year. Now, they were almost commonplace as the war being fought between the expanding vortex and the system's primary sent frequent bursts of charged particles throughout the entire system. They were a sad reminder to the doomed peoples of the fate that would soon be upon them, but to baby Mykaal, they were a never-before-seen delight.

The infant's happy demeanor brought smiles to many faces while the Elders examined the proofs put before them — a mere formality, since they had agreed to all that was needed to save the child and all the knowledge of their civilizations, months ago. The evidence was not presented to prove that Mykaal was a Great One, but rather that he had indeed survived both birth and the period of danger that followed, alive and healthy. The visual image of his complex and singular genetics was less convincing than the sight of the four-day-old baby, strong, cheerful, alert, and attentive, much more so than any ordinary newborn of any species in their entire stellar system. He would live and thrive, and that was what they wanted to be assured of, more than anything.

At the head of the circle of Elders, the two Eldest — one of the Ayalthans, Jynaar, and one of the Potrell, Mirii, neither actually the oldest members of the Council but rather those who had been elected as the most wise and just by their respective peoples — gave the signal asking for the other councilors to accept or reject, and the answering signs were unanimous: acceptance. Without words of pomp or ceremony, the members of the various ministries who had been asked to help make the vision of Mykaal's family a reality brought what they had prepared. Shenaal, his mother's father, spoke for them.

"It was a significant challenge you posed for us," he told the couple as he and the other ministers and technicians who had worked on the project came forward to be recognized. "The amount of information you wished to be included was in itself daunting, and never before have we created and coded exclusive data gems to be the teachers of the future for a child not yet born! But I am glad to say that all of us were able to rise to the challenge and meet it. For the other worlds of our system, we were only able to include their complete historical records, and their ambassadors were most helpful in providing what was needed. Complete and detailed records of all the history, science, technology, arts, and culture of both the peoples of Ayalthis have been assembled, and are included."

He gestured to the head of the Ministry of Education, a willowy woman whose smiling violet eyes still smiled, though they were dimmed by a veil of sadness. In her hands she carried a flat box of shimmering blue metal, without any apparent hinge or seam, two hands square and not quite four fingers deep. She brought it to Kyrel and Eliaan, holding it up before the happily burbling Mykaal, whose attention was instantly drawn to the shiny flat thing with a pretty silver design emblazoned on its flat upper surface. "As all these data gems are keyed to respond and give up their teachings only to your son, this case will open only to his touch on the reactive surface design—"

As if he understood precisely what had been said, the wide-eyed baby leaned out of his mother's arms just far enough to slap the palm of his hand on the top of the blue box, touching a part of the intricate silver design. It glowed faintly in answer, but remained closed. The minister smiled warmly. "As I was about to say, it will react only to his touch, and will open only when the sensors in the contact lock determine that he has reached maturity. Make certain this is secured well in his escape vehicle, along with the Master Teacher." She nodded to Shenaal, who held a smaller brushed silver box containing the device that would allow the data in the crystals to be accessed.

"They should both be kept safe until the proper time comes," Kyrel's father said, "though not so safe that they cannot be found, and might become lost over the years before he reaches maturity."

Eliaan understood. "We've been working with my brother to make a record that will give Mykaal certain information and guidance during his younger life, Minister Avennen, a data sphere that will be released to him or those who take him into their care, upon landing. It's encoded to respond only to his touch, and to others in direct physical contact with him, and we'll be sure to include instructions about these items you've provided. Thank you, all of you, for your hard work and this gift."

As the group who had come forward graciously acknowledged their thanks, one of them spoke up, a Potrell who had been part of the team assembling all the information on their most advanced cybernetics. "I've heard that one of my people is to be sent with your son," the gray-green eyed male ichthyoid said, his tone querulous.

Kyrel nodded. "A youngling of my work partner and her mate, Ootori Patomataa. Tori was instrumental in helping guide Mykaal through the difficult stages before birth, and by the estimation of many Potrell in Dusiomi City, he shows promise to become an excellent _min'yaaun._ He is quite young but very clever, and he was eager to have the neural implant to facilitate above-water speech and the direction of an android habitat, so that he could remain with his 'little brother,' to continue to help him after birth. Ootori is almost fully recovered from the surgery, but he's still slightly disoriented, so his parents felt being here today might be too overwhelming for him. But yes, when the time comes, he will go with Mykaal, and one child of the Potrell will find his destiny on another world as well."

The piscine technician inclined the torso of his cyberbody in a grateful bow. "Thank you for confirming the rumor," he said with a soft, bubbling sigh that became a small smile when Mykaal imitated the sound in the way that infants have, fascinated and delighted by every new sight and sound and experience. "I'd heard that it was a purely random selection, but if Ootori was instrumental in helping your little one survive the difficulties of his own genetics and already feels a filial connection to him, then he has more than earned this opportunity."

A ripple of understanding and grateful sounds and movements came from the rest of the assembly, especially the Potrell. The ichthyoids, while a people with a powerfully protective and loyal nature, were generally not given to jealousy, unless it was somehow rooted in their strong protective instincts. Those watching who had younglings of their own may have felt some envy toward the one who had been chosen to go, but hearing of Tori's love for the "little brother" he had helped even before birth, they understood why he had been chosen and was indeed the only good choice of a youngling to send with Mykaal.

For his own part, baby Mykaal was oblivious to the actual conversation, being vastly more intrigued by the colorful fish in the android's habitat and the amusing sound he had made, which of course he had to continue to imitate until he'd perfected it. In the skies overhead, the ribbon lights suddenly pulsed more brightly. The magnificent display diverted the infant's attention, something his newborn's mind saw as being solely for his entertainment, which he could not have known then was actually the result of energies being thrown off by the titanic struggle going on in their stellar system as their sun itself waged war for its very life.

Under those beautifully colored streams of light, those from the education ministry returned to their places among the assembly. As they moved back to their places, the two Eldest looked up at the vivid lights and understood what Mykaal did not. "The River of Destiny will soon wash away this place and all who abide here," the Eldest of the Potrell said, her voice clear and sad, but resolute. "That the universe should not forget us, that we existed, that we lived, loved, and learned, it is good that another world will have a chance to meet the last of each of our peoples. Let us all hope that these two younglings will reach their destination safely, will be nurtured with kindness and love in their new home, and will grow to be proud examples of what is best in both our races."

Mykaal apparently understood enough of the emotions swirling around him to grasp that what was being said somehow concerned him. His face suddenly became very serious and the wide green eyes blinked most solemnly, favoring Eldest Mirii with a grave nod, almost as if to say, "Of _course _I will!"

Then just as suddenly, his air of maturity dissolved and he squealed and smiled and giggled, waving his tiny arms toward the cases held by his father. Kyrel passed the wriggling newborn to her husband, who cradled him in the crook of one long arm as he held onto the precious boxes with the other. It was close enough for Mykaal to satisfy his curiosity by touching the smooth, shimmering metal. The reflections from the lights in the sky and those being held by the watching masses danced on his innocent and happy little face like the sparkle of stars and the promise of an even brighter future before him.

Eldest Jynaar gazed upon the infant with a soft and wistful expression. "None of us have ever before seen a true and living _Natoshi'ana, _save in what is left to us of historical recordings and images from our past," he said. "I do not know if those who came before were somehow different or if this little one is an exception among exceptions, but if Sejillaas and the others were so active and aware so soon after birth, it astonishes me that no one thought to record them in their infancy!"

Many in the assembly smiled and nodded their agreement with this observation. Jynaar let loose a deep breath of resignation. "But perhaps their families considered it too personal, too private, or such records were lost. I for one am glad to have had this opportunity to see our last and very much alive Great One with my own eyes. I confess that I had doubted the worth of this venture to save him and send him from this doomed place with all the knowledge of our world, but I doubt no longer. You named him for the brilliance that is the potential of his birthright, yet seeing him now, a spring of happiness amid the darkness, perhaps you should have named him for the hope he has brought to those of us who have seen nothing but hopelessness in our future. In the Time After, I pray that it is granted us to see what comes of the Destiny laid before him."

A happy shriek from the babe in question brought smiles to many faces, and tears to many eyes. Mykaal didn't understand it then — nor did he for well more than three decades — but Tori and the gifted boxes and all the other contents of his escape pod weren't the only things that would go with him across the galaxy. Unseen, untouchable, but nonetheless very real and present were the hopes that would ride with him, the dreams of two peoples whose children would never grow to adulthood, would never realize the promise their parents had seen in them since their birth, would never know the fruit of the seeds of their potential that were trapped on the barren soil of a planet soon doomed to die. He knew none of these things, and remembered none of those feelings in that moment.

What he remembered forever after was the beauty of the colorful streams in the sky, the twinkling of lights surrounding him like thousands of stars come down from the heavens, and the singing. It started softly, one voice raised up in an ancient song known to all the people of Ayalthis. Mykaal didn't recognize it, of course, nor what it was about, nor what the words meant — but he remembered that moment and that music for the rest of his life, a song which was part of a moment of perfect beauty that resonated in his dreams as encouragement made manifest.

* * *

><p>"I didn't know that they were saying goodbye," Megamind told Roxanne and Minion after he'd tried to describe it to them, inadequately, he felt. "Not just to me, but to the entire planet, to life. The end didn't come for another four days, but that was the last time all those people would be together. After that, they all went home to do what they could or what they wanted to do to prepare for the end."<p>

They had adjourned to the central living room, where the couple settled on a couch while he told his story, Minion taking the large overstuffed leather chair that had been especially built to accommodate his big robot body. Roxanne was leaning against her husband's shoulder, first to listen attentively, now to offer comfort. "I can't imagine being in that situation and being able to handle it so... calmly," the reporter said, brow creased with her effort to put herself into such shoes. "I'd be screaming for someone's blood, or freaking out at the very least."

Megamind's answering smile was wan. "Oh, they did freak out, big time, but not until the end. I remember that, too, people running around and panicking — as if it would do any good when your entire planet's getting swallowed by an artificially made black hole. I don't think they were any different, really. People here on Earth can have the same kind of knack for ignoring a problem or pretending it doesn't exist until they don't have any other choice. The whole ceremony I think was a way for some of them to feel that they were _doing _something rather than just sitting and waiting for the end to come, and for others, it was probably the kind of 'magical thinking' that the superstitious have. If they do all the right things and prepare for the worst, they're sure that'll prevent it from happening. But it didn't."

"Was this recorded and put in with the things you learned last night?" Minion wondered. He couldn't visualize it because he hadn't been there, but he very much wanted to.

His ward nodded. "I suppose they considered it the last important official event of our homeworld. I've had dreams of it from time to time over the years, but I was never quite sure if it was real. I _was_ only four days old, and I had the attention span of a squirrel. I kept latching onto anything new and interesting — which was everything, especially with so many people around. And my brain didn't even start processing words into language until the day before we left, so I didn't really have time to start understanding more than a few words and phrases."

"Like your parents saying that they loved you," Roxanne noted, recalling the very first thing she'd ever seen from the data sphere that had been accidentally ejected from his bouncing, crash landing pod and returned to Megamind when he was six. "I imagine they said that to you a lot — and it's amazing that you actually understood any of it, even if you didn't remember it clearly. Human babies can't even hold up their own heads at four days, and it takes months before most even _start _to recognize any words and their meanings, usually a year before they develop any actual understanding of language."

The blue genius cocked one eyebrow at her in an amused and quizzical way. "I thought you told me you could say a few simple phrases when you were only eight or nine months..."

She blushed and laughed. "What can I say, I was precocious when it came to wanting to be nosy and shooting my mouth off. It was probably just self-defense, given my parents."

"No, it proves what I've always said: you're the smartest person I know," Megamind countered, kissing the side of her head as she leaned against his shoulder.

Minion, well used to their little by-plays, was more thoughtful. "If that teacher device can work for me and shows events like that, I think I'd really like to have a chance to use it soon, sir, tonight, if you don't mind — unless you'd rather use it first, Mrs. Roxanne." Ever the polite fish, he was willing to delay his own eagerness if the lady of the house wanted to have her chance first.

But Roxanne shook her head. "Not until tomorrow night at the soonest. I'm probably just as excited by the idea of finally learning some hard facts and history of your planet, but not until after Wayne's interview — and not until you've had _your _chance, Minion. It _is _your homeworld, after all, your past and your history, and for all intents and purposes, you were both babies when you had to leave it. I'm just an interested bystander — _very _interested, but still a bystander. I can wait a day or two. Besides," she added, eyes twinkling with mischief, "this way I get to see if there are any nasty side effects for us ordinary folk who don't have a miraculously gifted once-in-a-thousand-years type brain."

Megamind squirmed uncomfortably, even though he was reasonably certain she was teasing. "Do you think that whatever it put into my head last night really _did _turn me into a freak?"

But his wife didn't hesitate for even an instant. "No, because you're still the same person you were yesterday, nothing's really changed. You were born with special gifts, Mykaal, extraordinary ones, and if that's what you mean by 'freak,' then it's something you've always been — a _good_ something. Do you think all those people on your planet would've worked so hard to help you live and have a chance to be everything you can be if they thought that what you are is bad?"

He considered it for some moments, then finally shook his head. "No, I don't suppose they would. I used to have the idea that wherever I came from, it was a planet full of villains and evil sorts, and that my parents were even watching me from Evil Heaven — but all of that was skewed by the idea that Wayne was born to be the hero, and I was born to be his nemesis."

"And you were only six years old when he drummed that idea into your head, sir," Minion pointed out. "Or maybe I should say when your teacher, Ms Driscoll, did. If she hadn't been prejudiced and wanted to suck up to the powerful rich kid and his parents, I have a feeling Mr. Wayne wouldn't have been quite so hard on you. He _did _know what it was like to be different, after all. He just needed someone to teach him about compassion instead of being a selfish show-off."

Roxanne snorted. "Sounds like someone else I know..."

That won her a not-too-hard elbow jab to the ribs. "At least _I _didn't fake my death and try to pull a hoax on an entire city before I learned better!" Megamind protested.

She rolled her eyes. "No, you just took over as Evil Overlord and ran rampant through the streets for months! But you did learn, and nobody had to twist your arm to get you to do the right thing."

"Unless that little speech you made on live TV about me never giving up counts as arm-twisting..."

She conceded the point. "Maybe it was a little. But the choice was still yours, sweetie, and nobody forced you to make it, not like we had to lean on Wayne to get that murder rap off your head." She let loose a huge, sighing breath. "I really hope everything goes smoothly tomorrow. I know that Wayne's been pretty much of a pompous jerk for years, but he's been trying hard to find a way to fix the mistakes he made, or make reparations for them. It's just so strange, finding out today that the even bigger mistakes that his father made are what's responsible for all three of you being here."

Megamind shrugged. "Or it could just be destiny. Both of us have our ghosts to live with. For me, I just hope that the Elder who wanted to be able to watch me from the afterlife didn't get his wish. Now that I know what my real destiny was _supposed_ to be, it makes me sick to my stomach, thinking what a huge disappointment I must've been to them for most of my life, especially my parents."

But neither his wife nor his best friend would have any of it. "You did the best you could, sir," the ichthyoid insisted. "If they really had wanted you to follow a specific kind of destiny, they might've done something to make sure you'd know what it was, right away."

Roxanne agreed. "And besides, no matter how hard you try, every kid winds up disappointing their parents, somewhere along the line. Just because you were born with phenomenal gifts doesn't mean you can't make mistakes. I'm sure they both disappointed their own parents at some time or another, and it seems that the more gifted the child, the bigger the disappointment when they do make mistakes. Minion's right. You did the best you could, especially considering where you landed and how old you were when people started browbeating you into thinking you were destined to be a villain. Peer pressure can be a terrible thing, as bad as bullying, and if you put the two together...! You weren't left with much of a choice, hon. And if your parents _were_ somehow watching you, I'm sure they could see that and understand — which would give them all the more reason to be especially proud of you now. You had a hard beginning to your life, and in spite of it, you still turned things around and found your real destiny. Any good parent would be proud of that, no matter how many mistakes you made getting here."

For some time, Megamind said nothing, but from the way he slouched down, legs propped up on the low coffee table, brow scrunched up in deep furrows, he was thinking about what they'd said, and thinking hard. His eyes kept flicking back to the two boxes on the table that he'd brought along when they'd moved to the greater comfort of the living room; each flick lingered longer and longer on the cases. Finally, he sighed, his green gaze shifting back to the faces of those closest to him.

"So, what now?" he wondered aloud. "I've just discovered the reasons I was saved when all the rest of my people died, and I'm not exactly sure how I feel about it. They wanted the legacy of all their knowledge and history and civilization to live on through me — but what am I supposed to _do _with it? I'm just one person! To keep it from falling into unscrupulous hands who'd misuse it, they keyed everything but that one basic storage gem so that only I can access what's on it. Am I supposed to give up everything else now, and spend the rest of my life learning everything that's in them so I can teach it to others? Or should I just learn enough to find ways to transfer the information into other media, and then find people I hope I can trust to go through it and figure out what's safe and what isn't? Does being what I am and knowing it mean that my life will never be mine anymore?"

It was obvious that this was troubling and confusing him, and both Roxanne and Minion could understand why. "That would be like going from one kind of prison to another," the latter said with a shake of his head. "From everything you've told us about them, I can't believe your parents would've wanted that, not unless you did."

Roxanne agreed. "I think they wanted to give you a _choice, _Mykaal, not a burden. Sure, people who have great gifts and great powers usually wind up shouldering a lot of responsibility, but in the end, it's up to you just how much you're willing to let all of this dictate your decisions." She gestured to the boxes, shimmering in the soft light from the lamps and the tall leaded glass windows. "They were sitting locked away, hidden for over thirty-five years. If they'd been destroyed or you'd never found them, the world wouldn't end; Earth would go rolling along just as it always has. And if you want to do nothing at all with them, or you want to wait another ten years, the world will still be the same. You don't _have _to do anything. Yes, the people who sent you here _hoped _you might do something good with it, but they're gone and you only get one life to live, your own."

Megamind listened attentively, then gave her a considering look. "And what do _you _think I should do?"

"It doesn't matter—" she began.

But the blue head shook. "Of course it matters! My life isn't entirely my own, anymore. I gave part of it to you when I asked you to marry me, and part of it belongs to Minion, too, as my friend and my brother. I'm not asking you to tell me what to do; I'm asking for your opinion, so I can factor it into whatever decisions I _do_ make. And that goes for you, too, Minion. I really want to know how you feel about all this."

They were all quiet for a bit before Minion broke the silence. "It's a lot to think about, sir," he admitted at last. "And a lot of potential change. You know I'll be right behind you no matter what decisions you make, but I have to agree with Mrs. Roxanne, you don't _need _to rush into anything. I mean, I know how long you've wanted to learn about where we came from, and about some of the advanced technology they must've had, but I don't see why you can't just take the whole thing slowly. Rushing has always gotten you into trouble, sir, you know that. And with something this big, I don't think you want to rush ahead and wind up feeling..." He didn't want to say, couldn't bring the words to his fishy lips.

But Megamind knew exactly what he was thinking. "And wind up feeling like a failure again," he said, almost sadly. "You're right, that's exactly what I'm afraid of. This isn't some villainous plot or nefarious scheme that has failsafes built in so that if it blows up in my face, the only things that'll get hurt are me and my invention and maybe some surrounding property. It's... important. _Very _important. And I don't want to screw it up, or stop being _me_."

His wife's blue eyes blinked at him, startled. "You're afraid that learning about your people and their technology will change you? Why? Because you've gotten excited a few times and started babbling about things in detail? That's still _you_, sweetie, just using a bigger vocabulary and maybe talking about things you didn't know yesterday because you just learned them last night."

The ex-villain snorted. "Maybe, but I also managed to walk into a room I'd lived in for years, set off all the alarms and security safeguards I'd _never_ triggered before, and completely fried the sensor system and half the electrical wiring in the high security isolation wing. My little 'improvements' had something to do with it, but not _that _much! Something in me _has _changed — and even if it's just my brain finally working the way it's supposed to, it's a little..." He swallowed nervously. "...frightening."

Roxanne saw his point. "Then taking it slow _is_ the best idea, one step at a time, one day at a time. You can go through all those data thingies, find out what they have to offer you, and pick out a few that cover subjects you really want to know more about. If your people ran their educational systems at all like ours, I'm sure they'll have everything set up to take you through each subject from introduction to advanced levels. Start at the beginning, and if things begin to feel scary to you as the levels get harder, stop."

Her suggestion was perfectly reasonable, but Megamind still felt uneasy. He bit one corner of his lower lip, the pink tip of his tongue peeping out on the opposite side. "What if I can't?" he eventually blurted out. "I don't know exactly how this Master Teacher device works. I got the point, very clearly, that it'd be harmless for anyone else who uses it to see what I saw last night — but what about me? I supposedly have this _oonimiginably_ rare kind of intellect, and the people who made these things knew that, they coded everything to work specifically with my genetics. What if it's supposed to worm its way into my brain and reprogram it into some kind of organic walking supercomputer that won't be _me _anymore, or—"

"Mykaal, stop!" his wife commanded, sitting up and turning to look him straight in the eye, Minion doing much the same from his chair nearby. The rising pitch and speed of his voice and the recurrence of mispronunciations when he'd been doing just fine told them very plainly how much the blue genius was agitated. "Your parents _loved_ you, and from everything I've experienced with you, what you feel when you say 'love' is the same thing we humans do, just stronger. You were someone incredibly special to them, and if all they'd wanted was to send a machine out to take your people's knowledge to another planet, they'd've spent their time working on _that_, not on saving your life."

"Yes, she's absolutely right!" Minion chimed in most emphatically. "I may not remember much about the details of the time I spent on our homeworld, but I remember the _feelings_, sir, especially the ones from your mother, since I spent so much time helping her before you were born. I never felt anything to make me think she expected you to be a... an _unperson_, just a thinking machine. She wanted you to live and be happy, and machines can't be happy without a heart that's free to feel. This is an _opportunity_ they sent with you, not an obligation or a trap — not unless you _choose _to look at it that way, and make it one."

Megamind stared, wide-eyed, at the two of them, blue and amber eyes blazing, both adamant in their positions, both very clear in their support and their love for him. He felt like curling up in shame for the way he was acting in the face of their affection, but he couldn't seem to shake the sensations of discomfort that had gripped him.

From his body language — shoulders hunched, arms drawn together tightly in front of him, head lowered like a turtle about to pull into its shell — Roxanne knew what he was feeling, and it only took a moment for her to see why. "If that accident at the prison hadn't happened, would you still feel so afraid? Because you weren't acting scared when you left home this morning, you were all excited and eager about the whole thing. Did the accident frighten you?"

The blue hero cringed just a bit more to hear it stated so baldly, but then he nodded. "Like you wouldn't believe. It wasn't quite so bad when we were still at the prison, but after we came home and you went to go over your notes for tomorrow's interview while we were waiting for Minion... I wound up spending too much of the time while I was alone thinking about what'd happened and how I've been acting all day."

Minion sighed, familiar with this problem. "Sir, you know it's not good for you to brood about things that really bother you, you always get yourself upset over nothing."

"It didn't _feel _like nothing!" his ward defended, though without any real vehemence. "It felt like..." He paused. "Do you know the old saying, 'be careful what you wish for, you might get it?' Well, you know that when I was a kid, I always wished I'd had _some _kind of real superpower, like mind control or something I could use to fight Metro Man, or at least get people to think I was something more than just a skinny, geeky loser with a big head and blue skin. Something more impressive than mere _intelligence — _more obviously impressive, anyway."

Roxanne smiled crookedly. "So you kept coming up with bigger and more impressive machines and gadgets that never quite worked the way you wanted."

Surprisingly, her husband was unoffended. "When I tried to make them bigger and more showy, yes. It was always my smaller and more subtle things that actually _worked._ When I blew the isolation cell's security system and slagged the power lines without even doing anything, it kinda felt like maybe I _had _suddenly gotten those mind powers I always wanted. I know that isn't what happened, not really, but if just one session with that sleep teacher could turn on things in my brain and make it do that, what might happen if it turns on other things? Things like the kind of powers I don't really want anymore?"

Both his wife and his partner pondered this for a bit. Minion spoke first. "I know my memory for things that far back isn't good, but I don't think your people had those kinds of abilities. Maybe something along the lines of a special empathic ability, but I think that's mostly because of how strong the emotions of _everyone_ from our planet were."

Megamind accepted that, though he wasn't wholly convinced. "But what if I'm a special case that way, too? The last _Natoshi'ana _lived almost a thousand years ago, so nobody alive had any experience with them, except as babies who never survived if they even made it to birth."

"Then maybe that's what you need to study first," Roxanne suggested. "If people like you are so rare and so special and always brought about significant change, they must have figured pretty prominently in your history. Find the stones in that box that cover history, and see if any of them deal with the _nootish—_ the Great Ones," she said with a wry smile. "Sorry, sweetie, I guess I understand how you feel with some words, now. I can't quite seem to get my brain to wrap itself around it, much less my tongue."

But Megamind didn't really hear her apology; his mind had locked onto her mention of a data gem that might cover the history of the _Natoshi'ana_. Something tickled at the back of his thoughts, something about teaching, about proper guidance and preparation, something he'd heard more than once in what he had learned last night, and in the recordings of his parents that had been able to occasionally help him in childhood. He abruptly sat up perfectly straight, eyes still unfocused as his inner eye focused intensely on his thoughts; then he stood up so suddenly, he nearly startled Roxanne right off the couch. "Excuse me a moment," he said even as he dashed out of the room.

The reporter looked at Minion. "Have any idea what that's all about?"

The ichthyoid both shook his head and shrugged. "Maybe there's something else he found in the pod last night," he speculated. "Or he just needed to use the bathroom, all of a sudden." He made the second remark so puckishly, Roxanne couldn't help but laugh. She managed to keep it to a modest if not quite ladylike chortle rather than exploding into a full-bellied and therefore suspicious guffaw, which was good, as Megamind returned only a few moments later.

With the determined concentration of a man on a mission, he returned to his seat on the couch, only this time, he sat on its edge so that he could pull over the larger of the two boxes on the coffee table. As he did so, he set down the familiar little cube that contained the message sphere from his parents. He thumbed it open with one hand while he laid his palm on the larger case's silver emblem to open it. As the lid pulled back to reveal the thousands of tiny data crystals inside, he picked up the message globe with his other hand. Its usual display of soft lights began the moment he touched it, but did not coalesce into the image of a recording.

"Something you remembered from last night?" Roxanne prompted, as both she and Minion were leaning forward to watch with curiosity.

"Just a hunch," Megamind replied as he held his now free hand over the rows of tiny glittering stones. "Things the two of you said about history and education and not rushing, and things the recordings mentioned about the Great Ones needing proper guidance. My parents were concerned that I wouldn't have any here on Earth, and they were afraid that it might make things too difficult for me now. If they believed that, they might've tried to do _something _to help, and this was what helped me before — ah!"

As he spoke, the lights that emanated from the larger sphere wrapped about him as they always did, though this time, they seemed to wind more tightly about the arm stretched over the box on the table. They grew brighter as they flowed down his arm to his hand, where they stopped and seemed to writhe, waiting for direction. Megamind curled his fingers of that hand into his palm, save for the index finger, which remained extended. When the light moved to its tip, growing a bit more intense, he then swept it back and forth over the stones, slowly, looking for some kind of a reaction. When he reached the stone at the lower left-hand corner, the light suddenly turned bright blue. Hesitating only for an instant, he pressed his finger down to touch the stone. It shone brilliantly in response.

He swallowed thickly as he looked up, green eyes wide and bright with astonishment. "_The History and Socio-Scientific Studies of the Natoshi'ana,_" he all but whispered as he sensed the content information of the shining stone. "They _did _find a way to help. They showed me where to begin!"

Roxanne acknowledged both the remark and his amazement with a single, solemn nod. "And now, Mykaal, the question is: do you _want _to begin?"

* * *

><p><em>To be continued...<em>


	9. If Dreams Die

_Author's Note: As always, my sincere thanks to all who have been reading and reviewing this unusual tale of past and present. I hadn't expected the last chapter to evoke so many tears among the readers, but I'm touched to know that I was able to move people so with my humble words. I'm now heading into the home stretch of this story; there will probably be one more chapter and an epilogue to follow — and certainly more tales to come after that! And at least in part, this chapter contains something I know some readers have been waiting for: Roxanne's come-clean interview with Wayne. I hope I managed to pull off weaving it into the greater story half as well as I hoped to._

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><p>Chapter Nine<br>If Dreams Die

Less than two days before the predicted end to their system, those living on Glaupek saw the titanic struggle taking place in their system not as beautiful ribbons and curtains of brilliantly colored light, but in terrible, seemingly endless dust storms. While the increased flow of charged particles had turned Ayalthis into what appeared from space to be a globe of solid, shimmering blue, the plasma streams and howling solar winds had stirred up the atmosphere of Glaupek into such powerful winds, the choking storms made it seem to be a world of dusty, burnished gold.

Inside the Rii compound, a golden object of a brighter kind shone under the lights of artificial lamps as Koan and Lethai made the final preparations to their son's escape vehicle. In the months since he had stolen the probe from the storage facility on Ayalthis, the merchant prince had had to endure his wife's anger and the scorn of those from that other world who had rightly identified him as the thief. But by the time he had reached Glaupek with the small but precious interstellar engine, it was too late to return it, and while he'd worked on making it as perfect an ark for Zan as he knew how, Lethai's anger had eventually cooled. Even the outraged voices from Ayalthis had fallen silent after a time, as its peoples came to accept what he had done, though some did so grudgingly.

Most of the blue people were less angry with him, and had even grown to believe that his actions had perhaps been the work of Destiny. If Koan could not undo the wrongs he had done, then at least if his son survived, he might one day be able to serve another world as restitution for his father's thoughtless acts. Varaan — who had been the first to notice Koan's thievery after the merchant had departed Ayalthis — had been much more forgiving of his friend's duplicity than even Koan felt he deserved. The former ambassador had been willing to give him the missing piece of vital information Koan needed to convert the stolen probe into a suitable escape ship for his son.

The probes had not been built with artificial gravity systems, since they had never been intended to act as habitats for living things. The ships that the Glaupek used to travel and carry cargo between the worlds of their system did have such generators, but they were much too large to be used in the probe, and beyond Koan's ability to quickly reverse engineer and redesign to fit the limited space within the escape pod. It was critical if Zan was to be saved, for while a child of the Ayalthans could survive the journey in a vehicle with air and pressure but not gravity, a child of the Glaupek would die in a matter of minutes without both air and gravity. Recognizing his inability to provide the necessary system on his own, Koan had finally been forced to contact Varaan and literally beg for the knowledge and schematics he himself did not possess. He had been able to make Zan's escape vehicle comfortable and pleasing to the eye, but he couldn't give it the one system Zan would need most to survive the journey.

Koan suspected that if he had not owned up to his theft without any prompting, Varaan mightn't have been so cooperative — or perhaps he'd acquiesced because he knew, better than almost anyone else, that refusing to help the merchant save his son would serve no purpose. The probe could not be returned to Ayalthis before the end, and without functioning artificial gravity, no one from Glaupek could use the interstellar engine to save one of their own, and it would be utterly, senselessly wasted. Whatever the reason behind his largesse, Varaan had given Koan the information he needed, and had wished him luck in his attempt to save his son.

The merchant had finished that final but most vital part of the escape pod barely in time. With scarcely more than a day left before the vortex would consume their sun and destroy their entire stellar system, he at last got the pod's engine and all its life support systems fully up and running. Lethai had double- and triple-checked it with him, to make absolutely certain Zan would be safe and provided with sustenance for as long as the journey required.

It was at that point that it occurred to her that neither of them knew precisely _how_ long that would be, since they had no notion of where to send him, or how to set the coordinates for a hyperdrive jump.

"I know how to pilot, but not an interstellar ship," Koan admitted as they both began to panic. "I can tell from how the engine is built that once the coordinates are input, it automatically takes the necessary steps to engage the drive, make the jump, then do whatever is necessary to arrive safely at the destination. But all I know about these other inhabited worlds is that they exist, not where they are or which ones would be suitable as a place for Zan to be sent. Varaan told me things about some of them, which is why I was so interested in finding a way for our ships to go to them, but actual coordinates?" He shook his head, full of remorse. "I don't have the slightest idea."

Lethai was silent for some time in the face of his confession, struggling to contain her rising feelings of despair. "Could you ask Varaan for this, too?" she finally suggested. "He knows what we're trying to do, and he didn't refuse to help before."

But her husband sighed. "I can try, but communications between here and Ayalthis haven't been reliable for the last few days. And... I'm not sure I _should _ask him. It's almost over, my love. This whole tragedy began because I was a thief and a shortsighted fool, and perhaps this final irony is Fate pressing my nose into the truth of all I've done. The only reason we have this little ship is because I stole it as well, and I couldn't even make the most necessary changes to it without asking the very people I stole it from to help."

Lethai's blue eyes flashed like fire. "So you're giving up? You'll let Zan die along with the rest of us because your pride can't stand to ask for help one last time?"

The scorn in her words stung him, and for some moments, Koan looked away, unable to bear it. He was trying to find a way to say what he didn't want to say — _yes, I'm a coward_ — but before he could, she let loose a deep breath in a sound of regret. "I'm sorry, Koan, it was unfair of me to say that. We've asked so much of the Ayalthans, all of us, and have never given as much in return. This isn't the first time that we've gone to them, asking them to rescue from our own mistakes, but perhaps we _should_ choose not to impose on them just once before we are no more. If we can't even figure out how to properly use what we took from them, then we truly have no right to use it. If Zan must follow us into oblivion, we should at least face our ends with courage."

Koan was about to say something about wishing that their son could follow them into something better than death when a part of his mind latched onto the word _follow._ Abruptly, he left his inspection of the escape vehicle and went to the nearest data terminal to call up the designs for the probe that he'd gotten from Varaan long ago, so that he could study the mechanics of the engine and understand why it couldn't be used for massive vessels.

"Perhaps we already have the answer we need," he said after he'd scanned a pertinent part of the probe's designs. "Varaan once told me that after an exploratory probe is sent to a new system, it isn't unusual for their researchers to send more probes to the planets where extremely complex ecosystems or more advanced civilizations have been discovered, to speed up the process of data collection and study. It was common for them to use that first probe to provide coordinates for any that followed, as a simple auto-navigation system. Those parts are still intact, and I think I can program them to follow his nephew's escape vehicle when it launches and acquire any coordinates we need from it. Unless they decide to send the boy to a world with little or no gravity, it should be a suitable refuge for Zan as well."

Lethai, who had been checking the escape pod one more time, searching for any flaw or any clue to solve their dilemma, turned to her husband, her angry, anxious demeanor softening even more. "Can you do that?" she asked, hopeful but afraid to give in to the lure of hope if it would be snatched away in a moment.

Koan scanned the data again, very carefully, and finally gave an emphatic nod. "Yes, I'm positive I can. The system that performs the function is an integrated part of the engine and wasn't touched during the modifications. It can scan and lock onto the navigational data of any other probe within an entire stellar system; it works most efficiently if it can be given the approximate coordinates of the probe it's to link with. We know these are the only two probes in this system, and we know the other will launch from Ayalthis. All we need to do is bring Zan here, make sure he's secured inside, then activate that system to let it automatically launch the pod the moment it detects the other probe leaving Ayalthis. If I program in a short burst of extra acceleration at the beginning of the launch, Zan should catch up with Varaan's nephew's escape pod before it makes the hyperspace jump, so they can travel together and arrive together at their destination."

His wife's eyes widened as the hope she had tried to restrain surged up inside her. "So wherever he finally goes, Zan won't be completely alone, the only outsider. He'll have at least one other child from the worlds of our sun to be his companion, his friend."

"We can but hope," the merchant said as he worked to do what was needed to give his son's escape vehicle a means of following the one to be launched from Ayalthis. "I presume that the boy's parents would want to send him to a world with ways of living similar to their own, so they probably will have it programmed to scan for and detect what appears to be a suitable home, with good facilities and a wholesome environment."

He snorted distractedly as he worked. "Of course, given the Ayalthan preoccupation with matters of the intellect and emotions, they're not likely to have it seek out a _truly_ superior environment rather than a merely adequate one. I may be able to adjust certain parameters in Zan's vehicle to seek out the best home available and take over the guidance of the other boy's pod so they can both benefit from it. Ayalthan parents simply wouldn't think of such crucial subtleties."

Lethai considered all these things as her gaze drifted back to the golden pod, then to the dust storm hammering again at the windows of the large hangar/workshop where Koan had refashioned the probe into a vehicle that would save little Zan. "So long as he lives and is happy, that will be enough for me. Don't attempt anything you aren't completely certain you _can _do, Koan. Zan's life and his future are _not _worth risking to satisfy your ambitions for him! For once in his life, do something completely for _him, _and let Zan find his own path to his future."

"Of course, of course," the blond merchant replied, just a little too quickly for his wife's comfort, as if he hadn't really been paying attention. "While I'm finishing the programming adjustments, why don't you get Zan ready and bring him here? We don't know precisely when the Ayalthan boy's pod will launch, and we must be ready at a moment's notice."

Lethai wanted to say more, to force him to pay attention to her so that she could exact a binding oath from him not to do anything that might pose the slightest risk to either their son's ship or Mykaal's, which must arrive safely as well or Zan's would have nothing to guide it to whatever haven awaited them.

But he was right when he mentioned how time was pressing. All the best scientists in their system agreed that the end would come no later than tomorrow, and as the vortex grew stronger and stronger, that time could change from _soon _to _right now _literally at any moment. Rather than waste even one precious second arguing with her proud and stubborn mate, she hurried to ready Zan for his coming voyage, hopefully away from certain doom and into a brighter future.

She had just returned with the baby — who was wide awake and surprisingly cheerful, utterly oblivious to the tensions of his parents — when Koan completed his programming and modifications to the pod's navigation systems. He gave his wife a confident smile when she favored him with a nervous and querulous look. "It's ready, and it's going to work perfectly," he assured her, leaving the data terminal to come join her as she placed Zan in the pod. Though he was now old enough to be developing all his powers, he was a very biddable child, and appeared to consider all that his parents had been doing with him and this golden "cradle" some kind of game, the pod a new and interesting "toy."

Koan smoothed one hand over the thick black locks that were so like his mother's, smiling sadly when Zan laughed in delight. "He's my son, too, beloved," he told Lethai gently, "and the last of our kind who will ever be. I want what is best for him, in everything — and I know that now, the best thing is for him to escape what I've done, to reach a new world and _live, _without the weight of my mistakes shackling him. What he should find when he reaches that new world..." He shrugged, as if in surrender. "That is for destiny and the powers of the universe to decide. We've done all that we can."

"I pray that it's enough," his dark-haired wife said most fervently.

And as if in answer to her prayer, the shrieking winds of the sandstorm dwindled. The thick clouds of dust and grit that had obscured any sight beyond the windows thinned, and the light of the sun, hidden for days, shone through, pallid but brave. The couple looked up at this encouraging sign and smiled—

—until the light suddenly went out.

ooo

And at that same moment on Ayalthis, warning klaxons sounded. Eliaan and Kyrel, just finished with all their own preparations for Mykaal's journey, snatched up their son and little Tori, awake and aware in his new habitat sphere. Together, they raced to take the suddenly bewildered Mykaal and his piscine companion to the tiny ship that while not golden and sleek and shining like Zan's would nonetheless lead the last three survivors of their worlds to safety as the ravenous black hole finally reached out and swallowed their sun.

* * *

><p>The next day, Megamind was sitting at home in the living room while he waited for Roxanne's interview with Wayne to continue. He barely noticed that they had gone to a commercial break as the first half of the interview concluded, the part in which Wayne had frankly talked about his past, about his life as a hero. The bombshell about his "retirement" — the fact that he had faked his death and was still in possession of all his powers and always had been — would come in the second half. To most viewers, the first part was riveting by itself, since many people didn't know much about Metro Man's childhood years, certainly not the fact that his rivalry with Megamind had begun because young Wayne had been a spoiled brat and a superpowered bully. But to Megamind, who knew all this and had already made his peace with his adversary, it was less riveting than the question still echoing through his mind.<p>

_"Do you __want__ to begin?"_

That was the question that hadn't left his thoughts since Roxanne had asked it. And since then, he had decided and changed his mind what seemed like a thousand times. The very idea of finally having an education far beyond anything available here on Earth, an education specifically suited to the exceptional brain and skills with which he had been born...! Oh, that was so very, very, _very _appealing, he couldn't imagine why he would want to say no to it! This was an inheritance that had been made to order, for him and him alone, and it was worth more even in the thought of what it had to offer him than an entire planet's worth of the most precious jewels in the universe. It was his legacy, his birthright, the final gift of his entire homeworld! How could he refuse to begin learning all it had to teach him?

But there were other things to consider. The amount of time and effort such an undertaking would require, for instance. Even if he was able to consume the contents of these data gems like candy, it would take years for him to go through them all, and much longer for him to assimilate all that he learned and actually begin to _do _things with it. In order to make that happen, he would certainly have to turn his back on his work as the city's protector — and even worse, he would very likely put a severe strain on his relationships with both Roxanne and Minion. Each minute he spent in learning was time he took away from them, something he wasn't willing to sacrifice, and between that and his obligations to Metro City, he couldn't see how he _could _begin this immense learning process.

And he didn't fool himself one bit about the fact that he _was_ obliged to help the city he had once terrorized. Yes, he knew that the world owed him a debt for the horrible treatment it had given him during his young life, sending him headlong down the road of villainy because no other path was left open to him. But he also felt that he _needed _to contribute in a positive way to this place that was the only home he'd known for all save the briefest few days at the beginning of his life. He _enjoyed _being a hero, even when it was only in small ways, and he was particularly thrilled by it when he could stop the plans of people who truly did want to destroy and hurt and make slaves of innocent people. He'd done his best as a villain to strike fear in their hearts, but now more than three years since he'd given up that life, he knew that all he had ever really wanted was recognition, attention, some kind of indication that this world accepted him. He had that now, never mind the bigots who would always hate him for being different. And having it, he couldn't bear the thought of giving it up.

Nor could he give up any of the time he could enjoy with his wife and his best friend, not merely working together, but taking time to savor with them the simple pleasures of being alive and being loved. He wanted that, too, every single second of it that he could get, with a possessive ferocity that sometimes scared him, just a little — as the possibility that such an intense education in things far beyond the current levels of Earth's knowledge might irrevocably change _him, _into something highly educated but cold and emotionless_._

The blue genius pondered all this, staring at the television without seeing it, and finally, he released an immense sigh.

He wanted _all _of it. Not the changing into an emotionless repository of information thing, but being a hero, being a husband and a partner and a cherished friend, _and _to be able to learn every last thing in that box filled with knowledge that his planet had given him as its last parting gift.

He didn't see how he could have it all, not without losing something — and whichever of these somethings might be lost, it was too precious to him to willingly surrender.

Groaning to himself in frustration, Megamind let his head drop onto the back of the couch, closing his eyes to try to help improve his concentration. He was glad that he'd told Roxanne he'd stay home and mind the store rather than accompany her to the studio, and though he'd claimed that it was because he wanted the focus to remain on Wayne — something Wayne himself wanted while he confessed his wrongdoings to the people he had once protected — she knew that he needed some time alone to consider his own potentially life-altering decision.

Minion had decided that morning to make use of the Teacher to see what he had forgotten or had never known about their lost homeworld; he was still in the teaching cycle and wasn't due to be finished until the early evening, so it was up to Megamind and the patrol brainbots to keep an eye out for anything serious that might require their aid. So far, things had been quiet, though the ex-villain suspected there might be some disquiet in the city following the broadcast of Wayne's confession. Hopefully, none of it would be violent or need his intervention, but he was prepared to go on a moment's notice, if needed.

So. He could begin at the beginning, with the information about the _Natoshi'ana. _For all that he had spent so much of his life boasting about his superior intellect, Megamind knew just how much of that had been pure bravado, a desperate attempt to bolster his battered and abused sense of self-esteem and self-worth. To discover that he actually _was _exceptional, so very exceptional that there had only been fourteen others like him to be born, live, and rise to prominence during the fifty thousand years of civilization in which his people had existed...! It stirred tremendous feelings of both pride and humility in him, along with excitement and fear. How could he ever hope to live up to such expectations?

Maybe he couldn't, no matter what he was. Maybe it was too late, maybe he had wasted too much of his life and his talents to be able to begin such an ambitious program of learning, even in part. Maybe it would be best not to begin at all, rather than to start and somehow fail, either in this education or in his heroic career or in his private life. Maybe he should just continue along the path he was already on, and not expect anything more of his life, or of himself. He had the love of a wonderful woman, the best friend and brother anyone could want, and the growing respect of the rest of the world in a job he loved. It was more than some people ever got in their lives, and he could easily be happy without anything more.

The only trouble was that though he was happy, he was still hungry. Not for more of what he already had, but for things he had long since believed were forever beyond his reach — answers to questions he had about a world and a people who had died when he was only eight days old. When he was a boy, he'd often entertained himself with fantasies about how someday, his parents would come for him, having saved their world at the last second, or how others of his people would appear, refugees who had miraculously found a way to escape their homeworld's fate. He'd concocted a thousand impossible theories for how a world could enter a non-traversable black hole and still survive, had postulated that some scout ships filled with blue-skinned explorers had been out in the field when the disaster had struck, and after discovering the tragic fate of their home planet had gone searching for any possible survivors, to eventually find him. He had wanted to believe that there would someday be at least a few answers to his most basic questions, the questions every child has: who am I, where did I come from, why am I here. And in the face of too many years of cold reality, he had finally given up those dreams, allowing them to die.

The fantasies about others of his kind ever coming to join him were truly gone now; any remnants of those dreams that had survived this long completely dissolved in the light of what he now knew about his homeworld and what had brought about its end. But the dreams of someday discovering more about his own origins and his people were more powerful than ever, because he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that those answers were contained within the teaching stones. He could find answers to those questions, and answers to questions he didn't know he had, yet. It was possible, and it was literally within his grasp.

How could he turn his back on such an opportunity?

He couldn't, no more than he could give up anything he had gained after such a difficult life. But he had to give up _something_; of that he was certain. But what?

Megamind made another sound of intense frustration as he opened his eyes and stared up at the textured ceiling high overhead. "What should I _do_?" he begged of the universe, desperately wanting a way to resolve this quandary without the need to give up anything, what he had or what he wanted to have.

Perhaps he was being too greedy, too selfish. Or perhaps he was finally trying to find some true self-esteem, to acknowledge that he _did _deserve to be loved, to be accepted, to have dreams, and to have a chance to make at least some of those dreams come true. He needed...

"Welcome back, this is Roxanne Thejhan-Ritchi once again speaking with Wayne Scott, adopted son of Lord and Lady Scott and formerly the superhero known as Metro Man." The sound of his wife's clear voice coming from the television drew Megamind's attention back to it, and made him realize that what he needed now was to talk with her, and Minion. But since neither were available at the moment, he felt an odd reassurance just from hearing her voice. He listened.

"We've heard about the past, now," she said to Wayne, sitting in a comfortable chair near hers in the studio's tastefully decorated extended-interview set. "From what you know of your origins, to the history of your life as Metro City's defender. I think you've shed an entirely new light on what it's like to be a superhero, on call every day, day and night, for emergencies large and small, and how being in such a bright spotlight can leave nothing in the way of privacy."

"That's right, Roxanne," Wayne replied with a little smile that Megamind knew was forced. "I don't blame anyone but myself for that, since I was the one who taught people that this was how they should treat me. It was definitely what I wanted — but it was also wrong."

The reporter was convincingly sympathetic. "That seems a bit of a harsh contradiction. Would you care to explain exactly what you mean by that?"

"Yes, of course. It might come as a shock to some of your viewers, but I've been in professional counseling since shortly after I retired from being a superhero."

"Really?" Roxanne managed to sound genuinely surprised, though Megamind knew she wasn't. She'd suspected as much since about a year after Wayne's "death," since she'd been of the opinion that it had taken counseling to get him to finally recognize that he really did need to come out of hiding to clear Megamind of his supposed murder. "I didn't know there are any mental health professionals who take superheroes as clients." That was another fib, since she also knew that Mykaal regularly spoke with Phil DeVries, the prison psychologist who had been one of the few people who'd genuinely believed that he was a basically good person behind his Megamind persona, and that he was capable of profound change, once he finally made the decision to give up his villainous ways. But that wasn't common knowledge, and this interview wasn't about the ex-villain, anyway.

Wayne chuckled ruefully. "Not many," he admitted. "But yes, there are a few. And it took counseling for me to begin to really understand that the concepts of being a hero that I'd held all my life were unhealthy, both for me and for everyone else."

Roxanne maintained a perfectly professional neutrality. "I suspect many of our viewers will have trouble understanding that. After all, you've helped countless people and have been admired by almost everyone in the city. Could you give an example to illustrate how this could be wrong?"

The retired hero nodded and simply said, "Megamind. It's my fault he became a villain in the first place. When we were both five or six years old, we met at a small private school. My idea of being a hero was to show off my powers by defending people from evil. Because I had all these powers no one else did, I believed that one of them was to automatically recognize anything or anyone evil. And because he looked so obviously different from everyone else, I decided the moment I saw him that he was evil and therefore my enemy. I never gave him a chance. Anything he did, I made it out to be wrong, deliberately wrong. If he mispronounced a word, it was evil. If he made a mistake, it was evil. If he tried to defend himself, it was evil. And eventually, I forced him to accept that he _was _evil, even though he wasn't."

He stopped and shook his head with such profound regret, Megamind found a mist collecting in his eyes, even though he'd heard these things from Wayne before, when they'd decided to mend their fences and start over, as friends. "That's not a hero. That's a bigot and a bully, and no matter how many people looked up to me, no matter how many times I did heroic deeds for the right reasons, it couldn't change the fact that I'd started my life as a 'hero' by doing something very wrong, by ruining an innocent person's life because I wanted to be the good guy and picked him to be my villain simply because he looked different."

He sighed. "That's probably the biggest example of how my concepts of being a hero were unhealthy, but it's far from the only example. When people flock around you and tell you how wonderful you are every time you do something for them, each and every day of your life, it feeds something inside you and blows it all out of proportion. Your view of the world becomes seriously distorted. And if it starts when you're just a kid, as far back as you can remember, it becomes what defines you — but it isn't _you_. The _real _person you are never gets a chance to be recognized, not as long as you keep buying into this skewed reality."

"So if this started when you were a boy — a baby, am I right?" At his confirming nod, Roxanne continued. "If it started when you were that young, how long did it take for you to start recognizing that something was wrong? Was there any one thing that was your wake up call?"

"Not any _one _thing, no. I think I started feeling that something was missing in my life when I was in my late twenties. All of the people I'd become friends with in college had married or somehow moved on with their lives, and I hadn't. I don't think I'm the first person who's had feelings like that when they were closing in on thirty," he added with a small smile.

Roxanne chuckled. "Not at all," she agreed. "You studied criminal justice and business administration in college, correct?"

Wayne nodded. "It was what my parents thought I should study. My mother felt that if I was going to be a hero, I should know all I could about police work and the law, and my father wanted me to be prepared if I should someday need to take over the family business. Of course, I kind of thought he was planning to live forever, so I didn't really think I'd ever need to be _that _prepared!"

They both took a moment to laugh at that preposterous notion before turning serious again. "That was when I started to really find other things I love, like music. I took a few courses to fill the arts requirement for my major, but my father didn't want me unnecessarily wasting time on what he considered frivolities, so that was pretty much the end of it for him — but not for me. It became a dream, that maybe someday, I'd find a way to work music into my life."

"So it was natural that you turned to music when you had to retire from hero work and your father was still running your family's business."

There it was: the implied question that opened the door to the truth. Megamind, who had been watching the interview rather distractedly, now focused much more of his attention on it. He'd known what Wayne would have to say about their past, and how he would take responsibility for forcing young Blue into a life of terrible rebellion simply by refusing to be his friend, or to let him _have _friends. How he planned to confess to his abandonment of Metro City... Megamind didn't know, and he was admittedly curious.

There was a brief moment of silence in which the blue genius could see his former foe not struggling to making a decision, but gathering his courage. Him, the huge, strong, invulnerable, and invincible Metro Man was afraid. Wayne swallowed once, then performed the greatest act of bravery in his entire life. He looked squarely at Roxanne, then directly into the camera, making it clear that he wasn't addressing her, but all those who were watching.

"I didn't retire," he said bluntly. "I never lost my powers, or had any trouble with them. I gave up, I quit. I was tired of being at the world's beck and call, not for the real emergencies, but for _everything. _I was being asked to do everything people didn't want to do for themselves, even when they were things they _should _have done for themselves. Just because I _can _do so much, does it mean I should be _expected _to do everything for others? Not big, important things, but common little things, like taking out trash for people who are perfectly capable of doing it on their own, or opening pickle jars for people who can't be bothered to pick up the jar opener sitting on the countertop, two feet away.

"And then there's the problem of doing so much crime fighting and rescue work that the police and firefighters started to lose confidence in themselves. I know some of them actually resented me for it, and either left the force or moved and took a job in another city, where they could actually _do _the things they'd been trained to do, that they _wanted _to do. That's wrong, totally wrong. Nobody should end up feeling diminished just because I wound up here and had powers other people don't. There's a huge difference between shouldering responsibility, doing all you can to help within your abilities, and causing actual damage to people and a society because you're doing _too much_. It started with Megamind — with Mykaal, your husband — and it snowballed until it got completely out of control."

He took a deep breath before continuing. "On the day that the city dedicated the museum to me, something... snapped. I guess I finally reached my limits — and I do have them. My body might be invulnerable, but psychologically, I'm just as fragile as anyone else. I hit my breaking point. I can't tell you why that day was the straw that broke the camel's back, all I know is that it was. Maybe it felt like I was finally being raised on a pedestal that was too big, even for me. Something inside me suddenly realized that if I couldn't ever lose, I couldn't ever change, I couldn't do any of the things in life that I'd dreamed of doing. And as long as I was trapped in that endless cycle, so was Megamind, so were you, so was the entire city. That was wrong, it was so, so _wrong._

"When that hit me and I tried to clear my head to think of what I should do, I came up with the idea of faking my death. I thought it would work out great for everyone. I'd get to try pursuing a new career, to choose my own future, Megamind would finally get to win, the people of Metro City would be free to take charge of their own lives. Yes, I knew Megamind would probably go wild for little while, but since he'd never, ever actually _hurt _anyone, I didn't think anything genuinely bad would come of it. I mean, he'd been kidnapping you for almost twelve years, and the only injuries you ever got were a few completely accidental scratches and bruises! I always knew he wasn't stupid, so I was sure he'd get tired of trying to run the city before long, and he'd finally figure out the same things I had: that it was time to stop our pointless competition and find out what he really wanted the most out of life. I never in a million years thought that he would try to _replace _me!"

"But he did," Roxanne said as noncommittally as she could manage. "And when you found out that he'd tried to create a new hero and that his experiment had gone horribly wrong, what were your feelings?"

Wayne was silent for a very, very long moment before he exhaled deeply. "My first feeling? Sheer terror. That sounds impossible coming from me, right? But it's true. In all my life that I could remember, I'd never been hurt, never felt pain — never, _ever _came up against someone who had anywhere near the same powers I did. And suddenly, here was this guy who not only had _exactly _the same powers, but he didn't appear to have even one _millionth_ the amount of morals and integrity that Megamind did."

The ex-villain couldn't help but smirk at hearing this backhanded admission, that his erstwhile foe had always believed that he had morals and integrity, despite all the banter between them to the contrary. _Presentation, _Megamind deduced, nonetheless amused by it.

Wayne continued. "This Titan guy _did _want to hurt people, and he didn't have any qualms about using his powers to do it. When you and Megs came to my place looking for something to give you an edge against him and instead found out that I was still alive, it all came crashing down — and I don't mean all the stuff you clobbered me with, either, Roxanne. Here I was, thinking I'd been clever, finding a loophole to get me out of a lifelong rut that had long since become a noose around my neck, and all I'd done was cause more harm than Megamind ever did! I ruined his life all over again, and set things up so that when he tried to fix it, everything went wrong in ways I'd never imagined they could."

He paused for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck to ease his anxiety before forging ahead. "And I was scared that purely by accident, he might've come up with the one sure way to _really _kill me, by creating someone who had all my powers. So you know what happened. I stayed where I was and didn't get involved, told you that I didn't want to go back to the hero gig, and left the two of you to figure out how to stop this crazy guy with my powers. I was the biggest coward the world has ever seen, because I was afraid of getting hurt and because I was selfish, so selfish that I let the whole world think that Megs was a murderer for over a year before I finally came up with some nice, neat, new little lie that would exonerate him and keep people from asking me to come back and be their hero."

Wayne looked down briefly, his expression one of deep regret. "That's the most _un_heroic thing I can imagine, and I'm sorry for everyone who was hurt and all the damage that was done, and I want to apologize to all the people that I know are hearing this and feeling completely betrayed and disillusioned. But this _is _the truth, all of it. All I really wanted was a chance to hang up the cape and take a shot at doing something else I love, something that wouldn't have thousands of lives hanging in the balance. I've never had a chance to feel _normal, _and as badly as I wanted that chance, I should've found a better way to go about getting it."

He hesitated again, to collect his thoughts, and to summon the strength to look directly into the camera once more. "I shouldn't have lied, to _anyone_, I shouldn't have resorted to tricks, and I shouldn't have set things up to make Megamind take the fall for my selfishness; he didn't deserve it. I just wanted an easy way out, and when I saw an opportunity, I took it. That's when I _really _stopped being a hero: when I used another person to take the blame for my 'death,' when I walked out on everyone who had come to trust me, when I didn't respect them enough to tell them what I wanted to do with my life. There aren't enough words to say how sorry I am for everything that happened because of my mistakes. But I _do _take responsibility for them."

On the screen, Roxanne nodded even as Megamind did at home. "Personally, I think it was very brave of you to finally admit this," the reporter told the former hero. "Especially when you could have continued to let people believe the lie."

"But it _was _a lie," Wayne insisted, "and I had it weighing on my conscience every minute of every day since I finally, really understood what I had done. I perpetrated a hoax, and a terrible one at that. I'm very grateful to both you and Megamind for not insisting that I confess to it openly, but I just couldn't keep going on like this. After seeing everything he's done to make up for his past and to rebuild his life into something positive, something worth being proud of...!"

He shook his head. "I _have _to do this. I want my life to be an honest one again, not one where I have to pretend to be something I'm not. I suppose some people will say it's just that I want back the convenience of openly using my powers, but that's really the last thing I want. I want to do more than just apologize to all the people of this city; I want to do whatever is necessary to make amends."

"That might be more easily said than done," Roxanne pointed out. "While I'm sure that many people will be ready to forgive you, I'm equally sure that some will be very angry."

"I know. And if they want me to leave Metro City and never come back, that's what I'll do. But I want this to be done fairly. So two weeks after Thanksgiving, there's going to be a public hearing held at the county courthouse, where the district attorney and a group of local judges will decide how I can best pay for what I've done. They'll be taking input from the citizens between now and then to gauge the people's opinions and their demands, and I'll abide by whatever decision they make. If they want me to stand trial and go to prison, I will." He cast his blue eyes heavenward, seeking divine help to avoid that unpleasant fate. "I'm _hoping_ that they'll decide that a financial settlement and a term of some kind of public service would be best, but I'm leaving that entirely in their hands — and those of the people. Even if I wind up totally disgraced and vilified, at least I want to be able to say that I owned up to my wrongdoings and took my punishment like a man, not a coward."

"I'm sure the courts, and many citizens, will appreciate that. Thank you for volunteering to do this interview, Wayne. The hardest things in life can only be done one step at a time, and this was the first — and I'm sure the most difficult — step, deciding to act on what you felt in your heart was right."

Those words so caught and held in Megamind's thoughts, he didn't really hear any more of the interview. _The first and most difficult step is deciding to act on what you feel in your heart is right. _He could hear Roxanne saying that to him, even though she hadn't. And he could sense that this was what she had been _trying_ to tell him when she'd asked him if he wanted to begin learning from the things that had been sent with him when he'd escaped the death of his world.

He _did _want to use that gift, to make better use of his own gifts; he couldn't deny it. In his heart, he felt he would be disrespecting his parents and all the people who had worked to save his life and assemble this treasury of learning if he just said thanks, but no thanks. Especially not when he _wanted _to, oh, so very much.

_The hardest things in life can only be done one step at a time._

Roxanne had said as much last night, but Megamind supposed he hadn't been listening as closely as he should've been, being in the midst of a spate of freaking out. One step at a time. That was only way anything could be done and he knew it, having always planned each step of his many devious plots. Of course, they'd failed in spite of his meticulous planning, but that had been before he'd given up on villainy, when he had been pitting himself and his abilities against an unbeatable foe. He had the superior intellect, but Wayne had invulnerability on his side, and when the battles were _always_ physical, it had been like trying to stop a powerful hurricane by staring it down. It was impossible to win.

Well, perhaps not _impossible_, not now. In the things he'd already learned from the Teacher, he now knew exactly how to kill his former adversary — and how could he have ever guessed that a man capable of defying gravity _needed _the presence of gravity to live? It went contrary to apparent logic, though now that he had the information, he could easily see why it was a weakness. Even vulnerable creatures suffered from a prolonged lack of gravity, and for the hypermuscular Glaupek, it made sense that their systems had used the force of gravity to develop their bodies to the point that they required it to function properly. He hoped that among all the information contained on the data gems, there was detailed data on Glaupek physiology. Seeing exactly how such superhuman bodies developed and worked would be fascinating...

The green eyes blinked as Megamind caught the way his thoughts were going. Even though a part of him was still very undecided, another part was so eager to begin, he felt as if he couldn't wait for Minion to finish using the Master Teacher, that if he had to be patient for a minute longer, he might go and snatch the thing right off his friend's head, whether his session was finished or not!

But he couldn't do that to Minion, especially without knowing how a "student" might be affected if their "lesson" was forcibly interrupted. He was fairly certain it wouldn't cause any harm, but he wasn't willing to take the chance, not with his oldest friend, who had helped him to survive long enough to be born. It was a good thing the Teacher turned out to be waterproof, for neither it nor Minion had been at all troubled by its presence in his habitat. Somehow, Megamind had known this would be the case — he'd probably been taught as much during his own "lessons" — but it hadn't even occurred to him to question whether or not the thing had any issues with submersion.

As he reflected on this and resolved to keep his eagerness in check, the last Ayalthan found that he had finally made a decision. He knew what he _wanted_ to do. He also knew what he _had _to do.

* * *

><p><em>To be continued...<em>


	10. Destiny Ends

_Author's Note: I know, this came before the next chapter of Pin Up Boy, but with a reason: the story will end on Thanksgiving Day, and I wanted to have it completed and posted before then. There will be one final chapter to come following this, and then it'll be on to the next story! My deepest thanks once again to all who have been reading and reviewing. My vision of this universe may not contain the kind of ending some folks seem to want, but I do have plans to take it in directions I hope my readers will find interesting and entertaining. For those who may not have read "Getting Back to Business" (or who read it so long ago they've forgotten), the reference Megamind makes to "what happened two days ago" is in the last chapter of that story. Thanks to all for coming along on this ride — now, onward!_

* * *

><p>Chapter Nine<br>Destiny Ends

Though all around them, the noise and tumult of their dying world shook everything as the final throes of death shake the creature fighting futilely to escape it, Kyrel and Eliaan stood in each other's arms and watched Mykaal's tiny escape ship speed away until distance and debris and the coruscating light in their beleaguered planet's atmosphere took it beyond their sight.

Eliaan sighed. "Well. He belongs to the Universe now, _tsi'ale._"

"Or is in the hands of the Unseen One, as the Potrell would say, _tsi'aan,_" Kyrel pointed out with a calm but sad smile. "Don't forget, Mykaal isn't alone. Brave little Ootori. I hope you find as safe a refuge among the Terrans as your 'little brother.'"

Her husband nodded as he held her more closely when the ripple of a quake shook the stone of the plaza beneath their feet. "I do wish we'd had just half another year before this happened. My father told me that the Elders had decided to initiate contact with the Terrans when the next survey ship was sent out. They're at a pivotal point in their development, and handled adroitly, our ambassadors could have been of great help to them — not to mention that it would have better prepared them to meet beings of our kind."

Kyrel leaned her head against his shoulder, still looking up the way their son had gone. "Mykaal will be our ambassador, now. The Terrans are generally very accepting and protective of the young; our son will find people to take care of him with his eyes and his smile alone."

That brought a wan smile to his father's lips. "Yes, I suppose he will. In the Time After, perhaps we'll be able to watch over him, just to make sure."

"We'll know soon," she sighed, turning her attention from the heavens to the man holding her. The upheaval the planet suffered as it was forcibly pulled out of its orbit toward the maw of destruction that had already destroyed their sun caused buildings and trees and mountains alike to buckle; the infrastructures that had provided light now that their star was gone crumbled, leaving them only their agitated atmosphere to give any illumination. It shone in Kyrel's green eyes as she looked into Eliaan's amber ones, gazing beyond the physical form to the soul of the man she loved. She sensed him gazing back in the same manner, and smiled.

"Where we go, we go together," he said, "as we promised each other on our bonding day. In life, and beyond. Thank you for walking the path of Destiny with me, _tsi'ale._"

"Through this life and beyond, _tsi'aan,_" she replied, touching her lips to his in tender passion. The arms about her tightened protectively, and their kiss remained unbroken as their world ended — and the next phase of their life began, together.

* * *

><p>"Well, that went better than I'd expected — though not <em>quite<em> as well as I'd hoped," Roxanne told her own husband after she finally made it home, about half an hour after Minion finally finished his session with the Teacher. The ichthyoid's "lesson" had taken just shy of seven hours, and though he suffered no ill effects from it, he'd gone off to the kitchen to start preparing a light supper, not because he didn't want to talk about the experience, but because he wanted a little time alone to consciously process everything. Though Megamind wanted to talk to him about his own issues, he really wanted to talk to both his friend and Roxanne together, so he'd been willing to honor Minion's wish.

While he'd waited for his lady to return, the blue hero had kept an eye on the reports from the patrol bots out and about the city, just in case there were any problems stemming from Wayne's confession. The worst so far seemed to be a bar fight that had started after an argument over whether or not Scott had _ever_ given a damn about the city, and a group of people egging the statue of Metro Man in the fountain where Titan had finally been brought down. Nothing the police couldn't handle, so Megamind had left them to it.

Roxanne had a different perspective to offer when she returned home. "The station's phone lines and email boxes overloaded five minutes before the interview was over, and there's been a _lot_ of commentary on the social networks. Most of it is sympathetic, not negative, but there _is _a fair amount of anger out there. Wayne says he's okay with it, he actually expected it, but I was sort of hoping the people of Metro City had learned _something,_ these last few years. I guess I shouldn't be surprised, either."

"How bad is it?" Megamind wondered as he let Pinky and the other household bots take care of Mommy's coat and other things.

The reporter waggled one hand, not too broadly, lest one of the brainbots interpret it as a signal for play. "No death threats, though I think that's mostly because now that they know Wayne still has all his powers, there's no point to it. And we probably haven't heard from the worst factions yet, the people who were seriously injured or lost family and friends when Hal went on his rampage. They went ballistic when Wayne came out of hiding to clear you of murder, and now that they know the truth..." She shook her head. "I can't see anything pretty coming of that."

"Have they accused _us_ of complicity?" He didn't like to think of that possibility, but he knew it existed.

"Not yet. Wayne did make it pretty clear that we didn't say anything because he leaned on us to keep quiet, and I actually suspect that this might wind up convincing some of the most persistent skeptics that you really _have _changed. I've seen some discussions to that effect. If you were still a villain at heart, you would've blown Wayne's cover sky high just to have the pleasure of showing him up as a liar and a hypocrite. After all those years of losing to him, no true villain could've passed up a chance like that."

Megamind blinked rapidly for a few moments as he processed this unexpected logic. "Very likely," he finally admitted as Roxanne wearily dropped onto the nearest couch, where he joined her. "So I don't suppose we can presume that we've already seen all the worst of reactions and find that everything will have blown over by tomorrow morning."

She grimaced. "Maybe, but I doubt it. That was half the reason I wanted Wayne to schedule the interview for this week. Between the Thanksgiving holiday coming on Thursday and the big football game that started right after the interview, people might have other distractions that they consider more important than the real answer to the old question of what happened to Metro Man. I'm sure we'll hear negative reaction from some of the more extreme groups, but I have a feeling that most of Metro City will forgive him. It's been over three years, the city's in better shape than it ever was, they have a new hero who they like in a lot healthier ways than they did when they fawned over Wayne, and you're doing a spectacular job. If things were different, they all might be calling for his blood, but as it stands, the situation and the timing could be much worse."

Megamind propped his feet up on the coffee table. One of the housekeeping bots that happened to be passing through saw this and tried to get him to take his feet off the table, but when Daddy ignored him, he eventually gave up and continued on. "I guess I'm grateful that they didn't immediately turn on me. I _have_ tried very hard to win their trust."

Roxanne kissed his cheek, then curled up against his side. "You did, and you have. By tomorrow, we should have a better idea of how bad it'll get. At the end of the program, we gave out all the numbers and addresses for people to contact to tell the judges and the DA how they feel about the situation, and what they consider an appropriate punishment. They'll probably get everything from 'nothing' to 'send them all to burn in hell.' On the bright side, though, the network brass were very happy with how the interview went. They don't mind controversy and scandal, it's good for ratings — just so long as it's not about them."

Megamind sniffed derisively. "Typical. You're so much better than all these gossip-rag mentality media moguls, Roxanne. They don't deserve someone of your caliber and integrity making them look good."

She turned her head to kiss him again. "Thanks, sweetie, I love you, too. So what do you suggest, that I switch to a different network, one that's more deserving of my extraordinary talents? I don't know if one exists..."

"Then I could make you one of your own, and you could turn it into something that will put all the rest of them to shame."

She chuckled. "Yeah, that'd be just about the only way it'd ever happen, and you'd have to keep on funding it so we never had to take advertiser support."

He stroked his chin for a moment, thinking. "That wouldn't be a problem. All I'd need to do is set it up to be funded by the income from a few of my more lucrative inventions and investments, and make sure it's properly managed. If I pull a few strings with people in the FCC, the whole thing could be up and running by the end of the year."

This time, Roxanne laughed outright — until she saw the look on his face. "Wait a second — Mykaal, are you serious?" She took a second look, blue eyes widening. "You _are _serious! Hon, I was just joking! I don't like the way the network does things sometimes, but I couldn't run a network of my own!"

Megamind waved one hand. "Of course you could! You _are _the smartest person I know!"

"Yeah, and I'm smart enough to know that this is a ten-ton monster of a job I do _not _have the experience or the training to do! Besides, I'm also pretty sure I don't _want _to run my own network, and definitely _not_ by the end of the year! I enjoy being a reporter, not an administrator, and I'm still working on building my career. Maybe in five or ten years, once I'm better established as a national-level reporter, if the network gamesmanship gets to me, I'd be willing to be a part of a project like that, but not now."

She kissed his cheek for a third time. "Thanks for the offer, though, and the vote of confidence."

The blue head tilted to return the kiss, though on her lips rather than her cheek. "You're welcome, though I think you're underestimating yourself. I thought that's supposed to be _my _issue, not yours."

She grinned. "Overstating your abilities because you're actually underestimating them? Two days ago, I might've agreed completely, but today..." She gave a little shake of her head and brushed back the errant bangs that drifted into her eyes. "To tell the truth, I always knew you underestimated your abilities even when you were bragging about them. If you hadn't, you wouldn't have ever let a bullying superpowered brat convince you that you were doomed to be evil. But even I never expected that you might be missing the actual mark by a couple thousand light years, not just a mile!"

Pensiveness creased the flesh between Megamind's brows. "Do you really believe everything I've told you, even without seeing any proof of it for yourself?"

The reporter nodded firmly. "Yes, if for no other reason than that ever since you gave up the evil bit, you've never lied to me, not about something this important. And it all makes sense, really. There had to be a reason why the three of you were saved. I might've thought that you were just the only ones sent to Earth, that others might've been sent to other planets, but if your people could've saved others, I would've expected them to send more than just one of each kind, so none of you would feel so lonely and different."

"Sort of like Noah's ark," the blue genius reflected.

"Exactly. If they were trying to save the species, they would've needed at least two of you, male and female, since you reproduce the same way we do, more than that if they didn't want to have a really lousy gene pool."

Megamind's thoughtful expression turned to an impishly proud smile. "See, you _are _smart, just like I told you. Noah should've been thinking more along the lines of at least ten by ten, not two by two."

Roxanne snorted. "That would've taken one _heck _of a big ark! What you told me about how and why you ended up here makes a lot more sense on a purely logical rather than mythological basis." A rueful giggle escaped her. "You know," she added confidentially, "back when we were all still in the thick of the kidnappings and battles and good-versus-evil shtick, I did come up with a couple of theories of my own about that."

Now, one of her former kidnapper's brows arched inquisitively. "Oh? And you never mentioned them to me because..."

She rolled her eyes in a self-deprecating manner at his prompt. "Because they were totally ridiculous, pure schoolgirl reasoning. One was the sort of 'origins of Superman' bit, which I have to admit was the product of first hearing that you'd left your planet as a baby just before it was destroyed. Not very original, but it was better than the notion I had for a while that you must've been the son of some _extremely _important people, that maybe you were the heir to a kingdom or an empire, so they had to save you to save the throne or some such nonsense."

Megamind lifted his chin and looked down his long nose at her in a way that could only be described as imperious. "Oh? And why would that be so unbelievable?"

She kissed the tip of his nose before answering, stroking his goateed chin with one thumb. "Because, your highness, that makes about as much sense as sending just one baby away to save a species that needs two to tango. With your entire solar system destroyed, there wouldn't be any kingdom or empire left to save. I'll grant that sometimes, both you and Wayne acted like bratty, spoiled princelings, but it just didn't seem plausible. The rulers of empires and monarchies are usually very particular about anything concerning their children, and if your parents _were _some kind of royalty, they would've wrapped you in golden swaddling clothes and pinned on a diamond-studded note saying, _I'm a prince, take care of me."_

Her husband grunted. "That's almost what Wayne's parents did. Have you ever seen the gilded pod he arrived in?"

She nodded. "And from what you just learned, his father _did _consider himself a prince of sorts. Your parents didn't. But they _did _know that you were even more unique and precious than any mere royal spawn, and they did their best to save you. That makes a lot of sense, and not in a fairy tale sort of way. And personally, I think it makes you _much _more fascinating and special than being just another kid of someone who happened to wear a crown."

Now, both black eyebrows arched. "That's... a very different attitude. A lot of people on this planet seem exceptionally impressed and fascinated by things like crowns and the people who wear them — or they totally despise them. You sound like you couldn't care less."

"Not unless I have some reason to respect the person under it," his wife assured him. "And to be honest with you, I have a lot more respect for what you've got inside this—" She ran one hand over the large, smooth top of his head. "—than anything you might ever wear on it."

The smile that tugged at the corners of Megamind's lips was both abashed and proud. He took the hand that had caressed him and kissed the fingers lightly, giving himself a moment to collect his thoughts, taking into account all she had just said. Finally, he let loose a small sigh. "I really wanted to wait and tell this to both you and Minion at the same time, but he's got a lot on his mind right now, processing everything he learned from the Teacher, so I think it'll be better if I have a talk with him later."

"I'm sure he won't mind," Roxanne agreed, but was now curious. "Sounds like you have a big announcement for us."

The big blue head nodded. "I've been doing a lot of thinking ever since yesterday — I know, not much of an admission. I was having a hard time coming to any kind of a decision, until I heard some of the things you said to Wayne during the interview."

"Anything in particular?" she asked, not pressing but rather giving him a few moments more to think, if he needed it.

But he answered right away. "_The first and most difficult step is deciding to act on what you feel in your heart is right_. I'd been thinking and thinking about what I should or shouldn't do — if I used the Teacher and the data gems, how would doing it affect my job as the city's defender, how would it affect my relationships with you and Minion, how would learning so much change me, should I do this, should I do that, if I choose this, will I have to sacrifice that..."

Now, he shook his head. "I was starting to feel like I was on a treadmill, running and running and not getting anywhere. When you said that to Wayne, it finally occurred to me that maybe what I was really doing with all my thinking and soul-searching was _avoiding_ making a decision. You said it in the interview, and you said it yesterday: one step at a time."

The reporter understood. "That's all anyone can do, even people with superpowers, or super-genius, take new things and situations one step at a time."

"I know — or maybe I should say, I know _now, _I finally let myself accept that it's true." He took a deep breath as he settled back into the couch a bit more, then let the breath hiss out in a long, soft sigh. "That was always one of my problems when I was fighting Wayne: I tried to make up for not having superpowers that would let me fly and move faster than anyone else by trying to make my schemes fly, taking two or three or more steps at a time. It was like trying to race down a steep hill toward a cliff in a car that hasn't had its brakes installed yet. The only place you're going to go is right over the edge. If there's one thing I do know for sure, it's that I never want to fail like that again, not with anything, not if I can do anything to prevent it."

Roxanne listened attentively, and when he paused, she nodded. "That's completely understandable. But are you thinking of _not _using that teaching thing because you're afraid of failing?"

She was relieved when Megamind easily said, "No. What I was afraid of was failing you, and Minion, and all the people I promised to protect because I don't think there's any way I _can _fail with this kind of instruction, not unless everyone was wrong about me being _Natoshi'ana _— and in my gut, I'm sure they were right. I don't want to get my head so stuffed with what I learn that it winds up changing who am I, how I think and feel. And I was afraid of feeling like I'd failed my family and my people, and myself, if I _didn't _use what they gave me."

His mouth quirked into a very odd half-smile. "I was getting about as mixed up and confused as I think I've ever been — until you said that thing about doing what you feel in your heart is right. Then it hit me: I was back at the point where this all started two days ago, wondering if I'd ever find out what Minion's real name is, or anything else about our planet and our peoples. Do you remember what you told me then, when I was griping about hitting a dead end when it came to getting any more information out of the message sphere I've had since I was six?"

She had to think about it. "Something about needing to be in a strong emotional state, or that maybe your people have exceptionally strong and sensitive emotions. I was right about that, wasn't I?"

"Completely right, there was plenty of confirmation of that in the things I learned yesterday. It was feelings that helped me find these new things by triggering the last message from my father, it was feelings that my mother and Minion used to help guide me through a very difficult time before I was born, it was feelings that moved a whole planet to want to save my life. So when it came to deciding what I should do next, I realized that I was doing _way _too much _thinking_ and not enough _feeling_ — not enough trusting my own heart and gut instincts to help me figure out the right thing to do."

He suddenly sat up straight and pivoted his entire body to look directly at his wife as he took her hands in his own and continued. "_All _of these feelings are important: my excitement over having a chance to learn anything I could ever want to learn, my pride in what I've managed to accomplish as the city's defender, the protectiveness I feel toward its people, the love I feel for you and Minion, the friendship I'm learning to feel more toward Wayne and other people, and even the respect I feel for my mother and father and all the people who died, but made their last effort giving me a chance to live and be everything I want to be. I can't sacrifice any of those things because they're _all _important. They're all a part of who I am, and if I give up any of them, it'll be like cutting off an arm or leg, or tearing my heart to pieces. I can't do that, Roxanne. I just can't."

His big eyes were full of a kind of heartbreak Roxanne had seen only once before, and she had to close her own eyes to keep the memory of that rainy night at bay. "I'm not asking you to do that, love," she said gently. "I never would. I love you just the way you are, and the way you are is the last survivor of a race who cared for you enough to find a way to save you and give you this opportunity. I would never ask you to give that up."

When she opened her eyes again, she was startled to see the moment of pain suddenly melt from Megamind's expression and transform into a relieved sort of joy. "Great, because I'm not going to! I figured it out! I don't _have_ to sacrifice anything that's important to me; the only thing I have to give up is my _impatience_. The problem isn't that I want to do and have all these things; it's that I want to do them and have them _right now, _as fast as possible, not as fast as is _practical. _All these worries I have about turning into some kind of zombie supercomputer...!"

He blew out an eloquent raspberry. "That's what comes from watching too many bad sci-fi movies and reading comic books. Yeah, super-intelligent people in those things come off as emotionless and arrogant because they think anyone who isn't as smart as they are is beneath them, like insects."

A wash of bright lavender-pink swept across his cheeks and ears. "I know, I've called other people mindless drones, and some of them do act that way. If I'd found these things and used them when I was still a villain, when it was just me and Minion, I probably would've gone that route. I'm glad that's not what happened. Because now I can see that the way to have all the things I want without turning into something I'm not and don't want to be is to do things just the way you said: one step at a time."

Though the last part came out in an eager, excited rush, seeming to contradict what he'd just said, the light in his bright green eyes and the expression on his mobile face told Roxanne that he _did_ understand what he was saying. The one thing he would need to give up, to surrender, to have all the wonderful things that he wanted was his habit of rushing ahead, doing too much too quickly, acting on anything and everything before thinking through all the ramifications, letting excitement become a complete loss of control that lead to devastation, to failure. He had to give up being his own worst enemy, had to give up accepting failure, and instead, he had to genuinely embrace success, and all that he needed to do to succeed.

The reporter took a deep breath as she tried to sort through all these weighty thoughts. It was no wonder, she mused, that Megamind had been thinking and thinking and thinking ever since he'd wakened from using the Teacher. With everything that he had to process, it was a marvel that he hadn't blown the electricity in all Metro County, not merely in one wing of the prison!

She let out the breath in one expansive sigh. "That sounds like a very good plan," she began, slowly, thoughtfully. "Being afraid of success can be even more crippling than being afraid of failure — but are you _sure _this is what you want? A lot of things can seem like impatience, and I wouldn't ever want you to give up your excitement and enthusiasm for everything in life. It's too big a part of who you are."

To her relief, he grinned, an almost wicked gleam in his eyes. "Oh, come on, Roxanne, can you _ever _imagine me losing _that_? I'd have to be permanently drugged and comatose! Besides, even if it _could _happen, that's biggest reason to start these studies slowly. It's easier to back off or say stop when you're not barreling ahead at full speed."

"True," she admitted, letting herself feel the relief she'd been afraid to set loose inside her. "Okay, I'm on board with this plan, and I'm pretty sure Minion will be, too. When do you want to start?"

Megamind's big grin suddenly faded into worried hesitance. "Well, ah, I was thinking — that is, if... um, if you don't mind... Would it be okay if I started tonight?" The question came out as a small, timidly voiced squeak.

Roxanne blinked, then smirked. "What was it you just said about going slowly?"

His entire face turned an endearing shade of fuchsia. "I know, it sounds like I'm wanting to rush right into it, and I did promise you could use the Teacher tonight, since Minion's had his turn. But before I make any more decisions, I thought it would be a good idea to at least start with the lesson my parents felt I should have first, the studies about the _Natoshi'ana. _If I know what it was like for the other fourteen who came before me, I think I'll have a much better idea of what we can expect to happen if I _do _take this farther. But if you want me to wait until tomorrow..."

His wife, however, shook her head. "No, I think you should go ahead and do it tonight. Aside from the fact that I need a good night's sleep after all the stress of today, I also think that you're right, you should know all you can about what might happen before you go any farther. Today was my last day for work until after the Thanksgiving weekend, I made that arrangement with Mr. Kincaid when we scheduled the date for Wayne's interview, so I'll have plenty of time to have my turn once I'm rested. And if you promise I can use this Teacher after you've done this beginning session, I'll hold you to it even if I have to have Minion and Wayne both sit on you to keep you from using it again until after I've had my turn."

"That's not a bad idea," Megamind admitted, albeit with embarrassment. "I know how to be stubborn and persistent, but that's not the same as patience. Between you and Minion, I think you can help me learn how to be better, that way. You've both been unbelievably patient with me." He said the last most humbly and gratefully.

"I'll do my best, sweetie. So, now that you've had a day to process it all, do you still think that this is your _real _destiny, the path you want to take to get the most out of your life?"

The blue genius cocked his head in a contemplative way, nibbling on his lower lip as he pondered the question. Finally, with conviction, he said, "Yes, I do. After the interview was over but before you got home, I was chewing on everything that had happened and what you'd said about making decisions, and I remembered a quote I once read somewhere: _When man faces destiny, destiny ends and man comes into his own. _That's what this is all about, facing destiny and coming into my own. I'm the last one of my people, and yet everything that they ever were and thought and believed and accomplished is mine now. I can't ever make them or their civilization live again, but I _can_ take what they gave me and create something with it here on Earth that will be the product of their gifts and mine together, but a part of Earth, too."

His entire manner lit up like a Christmas tree. "That's really an amazing thought, isn't it? Ayalthis and its peoples are gone now, a part of the past, but because I'm here and have a chance to learn to make the most of my abilities, I might be able to make a future for Earth that will let the spirit of my people live on, long after all of _us _are gone."

While he spoke, he had such a look of wonder in his face, Roxanne was certain he was literally glowing like the stars from which he'd come. She cupped his cheek with one hand, smiling as she fancied herself able to literally feel the energy tingling against her skin. "It's the most amazing thing I've ever heard of," she agreed with deep affection. "Just don't leave the rest of us out of the loop, okay?"

Megamind's green eyes, which had been only half-focused as their owner gazed off into the distance of the future, suddenly snapped their full attention back to the woman seated before him. He eagerly snatched up her hands again and held them tightly. "Are you kidding? I expect both of you to come along for the ride! I _need _you to be a part of this, or it won't be worth it! And with the work I do to defend the city and help improve all the infrastructure and the quality of life, not to mention the educational systems and, oh, just everything else...! What would be the point of _doing _all this if it's just for myself? You know me, I never think of anything on a small scale, I like a big stage, and the bigger the better, with this! You _have _to be a part of it, Roxanne, _especially _you, and Minion. The rest of the world may benefit from whatever comes of it, but the two of you _have_ to be first!"

The waves of bubbling excitement rolling off him almost literally knocked her over like the surf at high tide, and she laughed as she leaned forward to give him a soft kiss to calm him down. "Okay, okay, I believe you! And I also believe it when you said you're not ever going to lose your excited-with-everything kind of enthusiasm. I have a feeling that this is going to turn out to be one of the biggest and most amazing things this world has ever seen, and I most _definitely _want in, on everything!"

Megamind's laugh was bright, with just a delicious trace of his old evil cackle. "Oh-ho-ho, I see what you _really _want, my nosy reporter! You want to be the first with every single _spoot, _if any happen to come along!"

She gave him a marvelously wicked grin in return without bothering to correct his mispronunciation of _scoop_. "You bet your pointy purple-pink ears I do! If you're thinking of setting me up with my own network, why not? At least _I _can be counted on to report everything completely honestly, as a totally unbiased source—"

When he leaned in and caught her lips in a much more passionate kiss than the one she'd used to momentarily calm him, Roxanne let herself get thoroughly caught up in the moment, as well as in the strong, slender arms that wrapped around her, holding her close in grateful and loving delight. At length, he let her come up for air, and she sighed in pure happiness, eyes still closed as she savored it all. "Well, maybe not _completely _unbiased," she finally allowed, and kissed him right back.

Minion, coming both to tell them that supper would be ready in about twenty minutes and to ask Megamind about something he'd learned during his session with the Teacher, saw the couple contentedly and enthusiastically wrapped up in one another and decided that his question could wait until it was time for dinner to be served. He smiled and hummed to himself as he cheerfully ambled back to the kitchen, pleased and relieved to see this visible proof that despite the huge change which had just entered all their lives, the most important things would go on just as they should, altered only, perhaps, in how much more deeply they were cherished.

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><p><em>To be concluded<em>


	11. Epilogue

_Author's Note: Almost a week before Thanksgiving, but happily not too late, I now give you the end of this not-so-little story, with my deepest thanks to all who have been reading and reviewing along the way. As this is not an end for our characters but just a beginning, so this is certainly not the end of the tales I have to tell in this universe. Aside from the already in-progress "Pin Up Boy" (the next chapter of which is coming along nicely and should be up soon), I definitely have other stories in mind, and will be writing them as soon as the Muse and Real Life allows. I also want to offer my thanks once again to everyone who has kept my husband and myself in their thoughts and prayers over the past few months. Bless you all!_

* * *

><p>Epilogue<br>Beginning of Creation

_Imagination is the beginning of creation.  
>You imagine what you desire, you will what you imagine,<br>and at last you create what you will._

_George Bernard Shaw_

The next morning, Roxanne awoke to the pleasant sensations of being cuddled by her still-sleeping husband — who at the moment was simply asleep, not under the induced slumber of the Teacher. When they'd gone to bed, she'd been fascinated by the sight of the beautifully filigreed band softly glowing across Megamind's brow as it led him into a state where he would learn all that the tiny gem at its center had to offer. She had no idea when the session had completed, since despite her determined effort to stay awake until he was finished, she'd drifted off, exhausted after the stressful day. He'd apparently been very careful to not waken her, and from the happy look on his face, he'd been pleased by what he'd learned.

"It's not as dreadful as I'd been afraid it might be," he told her and Minion over breakfast, which Madeleine and her kitchen helper bots had prepared and served. "None of the _Natoshi'ana _were emotionless walking computers — as a matter of fact, they were all a lot like me, both physically and in personality. Short, thin, extra-big head, hyperactive, excitable, the works. Even once my people understood why they were that way and what to expect, they were usually nightmares for their parents and teachers and caretakers, until they were old enough to begin to settle into their mature bodies. Having guides and instructors who knew what to expect helped, but only so much. The hyperactivity came from the extremely elevated brain and hormonal activity during their physical development. Trying to control it through drugs or other artificial means had very negative effects, so people around them just learned to live with them as they were, until their brains grew up and finally started working properly."

He laughed brightly, genuinely amused by the entire idea. "I wish they'd at least sent some kind of a note to warn you about all this, Minion, I _know_ you thought I was pretty much out of control and maybe losing my mind, sometimes!"

The ichthyoid flittered his fins and burbled for a moment in chagrin. "Now, sir, you know that's not true!" he protested, a bit feebly since it wasn't entirely so. "It's just that sometimes, you had a _lot _of energy and got so excited about ideas you had and things you were doing, I was afraid you might hurt yourself... or something."

Megamind's eyes rolled dramatically, but he was still smiling broadly. "Or something," was his concession. "I don't suppose there was a lot you could've done about it, anyway, since my _problem, _if it really was a problem, wasn't what Earth doctors call hyperactivity or attention deficit disorder or anything like that. It wasn't a neurological disorder caused by defective genes, it was my brain growing the way it was _supposed _to grow and develop — it just took a lot longer than anyone here would expect. If they'd tried to 'correct' it, it could've wound up doing much more harm than good."

Roxanne made a soft sound of sympathy. "I know, that's a horrible thing to see," she said softly, winning a curious look from both her husband and ersatz brother-in-law. She explained. "I had a cousin who got smacked with the hyperactive label when he was young. My aunt was so embarrassed by his behavior — even though he wasn't really all _that _bad, he just had a lot of energy and was sometimes forgetful — she dragged him to doctor after doctor, looking for a 'cure.' She didn't bother to tell every new doctor what prescriptions the other ones had given Kyle, she just wanted to hit some miracle combination that would make him behave the way she wanted. It turns out that a lot of the drugs were contraindicated, he should _never _have been taking them at the same time, but Aunt Louise got what she wanted. The drugs caused Kyle so much permanent physical damage, he wound up institutionalized. And all that was _really _wrong with him was a glandular disorder that could've been treated with one simple drug, if Louise hadn't been so determined to make him 'behave properly.' She crippled her own son because she wasn't willing to be inconvenienced by something that wasn't his fault."

She closed her eyes as she shuddered at the memory, opening them when she felt a warm hand reassuringly grip her own. She saw Megamind's concerned blue face watching her, and gave him a small, loving smile. "I would've hated to see that happen to anyone else, especially you, Mykaal. Sometimes, I have to wonder if some of the things people call diseases and disorders are really nothing more than genuinely special gifts that 'normal' people don't want to bother learning to accept. It was hard enough to watch what happened to my cousin; I couldn't bear to see it happen to a child of my own."

Megamind's face suddenly went very still. He let go of his wife's hand for a moment, then gingerly closed his fingers around hers again, more tentatively. "Ah... Yeah, that's something else I should mention. About children. We... um... we aren't going to have to worry about accidents or needing to change our minds about any decisions we've made. For one thing, with my people, their reproductive systems had evolved to the point that it wasn't possible for conception to occur unless both members of a couple were fully mature and not only consenting, but actively _wanted _a child. If one or the other didn't or had any serious doubts, they wouldn't conceive. I suppose it sounds awful to you, too clinical or something, but it did have the effect of assuring that every child born to the Ayalthans was truly wanted by both parents."

Roxanne's eyes had gone wide as she listened, almost shocked at first but then becoming more gentle. "If things were like that here on Earth, I think we humans would go extinct in just a few generations, out of fear of commitment, if nothing else. So, are you telling me you have serious doubts about having children, and that's why I've never gotten pregnant? Because if you are, I have to remind you that _I_'ve had doubts, too."

He nodded. "I know, and I guess that _is _part of what I'm saying — but it's not all of it. That _might _have been the reason, with anyone else from my planet. But the _Natoshi'ana _were all significant mutations, barely viable to begin with. In a reproductive sense, it would take only a tiny alteration to turn what's positive about their gene structure into a terrible but _very_ viable defect that results in dreadful handicaps rather than amazing abilities. Whatever causes a Great One to be conceived appears to make sure that such a thing can't happen. If they manage to survive and reach maturity, they can't pass on their genes."

Both Roxanne and the quietly listening Minion gasped as the implication registered. "You're sterile?" she asked with quiet sympathy, since this was the kind of news no one ever enjoyed hearing.

Megamind waggled one hand. "In the usual direct manner, yes, my genes won't allow for conception in an ordinary way. If we really wanted to have children, it'd be possible to correct the defect _in vitro _before conception_, _and the result would be a normal Ayalthan/Terran hybrid embryo — which would be surprisingly possible even without lab intervention, with an ordinary Ayalthan parent. But it turns out that none of the _Natoshi'ana _had blood offspring. Two adopted children, but most were so involved in the lives of so many people, both young and old, that it was as if the entire world was a part of their family."

The reporter's eyes narrowed in a slight frown as she considered what he'd said, very intensely. "Do you mean that being what you are will eventually also mean that you'll wind up... belonging to the whole world?"

Megamind could be dense about a great many things, but for once, he immediately picked up on exactly what she _wasn't _saying. "Oh — oh! No, no, not like that, I could never, ever, _ever _let go of you, Roxanne, or you, Minion! The _Natoshi'ana _did sort of wind up belonging to the world through the things they did and created and discovered, and they often had more direct involvement in the lives of a lot of people — but I'm _already _doing that, by being the city's Defender, and helping people in other parts of the state, and the country. What I meant was that the Great Ones usually didn't feel that not having offspring of their own was something _lacking_ in their lives because they had many, _many_ other compensations that were just as emotionally fulfilling. And all of them, _all of them, _had a life partner of some sort, as well as close friends — and those relationships weren't only precious to them, they were _vital, _as much as having air to breathe!"

His vivid green eyes shifted from Roxanne to Minion, glowing with excitement. "So you see, Minion, just _being _there for me all these years did something as critical for my survival as what you did when you helped my mother carry me to term, something much more important than knowing why I acted so hyper. You _grounded _me, gave me something and someone outside myself to care about, to keep my feet on the ground even when I acted like a selfish git with my head off in the clouds, or in orbit. You gave me a vital emotional _focus, _so that my wild intellectual capacity didn't wind up with me inventing something that would kill me!

"And Roxanne!" he added, turning to her so suddenly, she jumped a little in her chair. "Haven't you said that ever since I gave up being evil, I've grown up and calmed down enough to stop being such a habitual loser? That was all because of _you_, because you gave me another kind of connection to a person who's become so important to me, I can't imagine life without you as my wife, any more than I can imagine life without Minion as my friend and brother. Minion helped me learn to focus; you helped me to _grow, _as a person_._ Do you see what I mean?" His gaze flicked back and forth between the two. "Please tell me you understand, that this makes sense to you!" He was all but begging, to both of them.

"I _do_ understand, sir," Minion said without more than a moment's pause. "It might've been more difficult if you hadn't let me use the Teacher yesterday to see the things about what happened to our world and why we were both chosen to be saved, but I do understand now. You're right, this _is _a lot like what I did to help you when I was just a baby myself."

The ichthyoid chuckled. "Before I saw it, I had trouble quite believing it because I couldn't remember, but after, I could _feel _how right it all was. You're an amazing person, sir, even if you sometimes do things and behave in ways that leave my head spinning, and if I can help be an anchor for you just by being your friend...! Of _course_ I understand it, and I'll be very honored to keep on doing whatever I can."

"That's right," Roxanne said with a nod, turning her hand to close her fingers around her husband's blue ones. "I've always thought there was something about you that was different from ordinary humans but at the same time was even _more _human than anyone I've ever known. It confused the heck out of me for years, because it made no sense whatsoever, since you were obviously alien! But it makes perfect sense now."

She stroked the back of his hand with her thumb, caressing the soft blue skin that was so different from her own, and yet so very much the same, despite its color. "Your people need love and kindness and a sense of belonging and purpose just the same as mine — probably even more so because you _feel _things so much more strongly. Having friends is one sort of belonging, having family is another, and having a spouse or a life partner or whatever you want to call it is yet another. I can't give you back your family, but I _can _give you that last kind of connection — and I'm very happy that I was the person you wanted. So to answer your question: yes, Mykaal, I understand, and thank you for putting my fears to rest. I know you'd never abandon me, but I was a little bit afraid that this whole Great One thing would get to be so big, I'd have to fight for my place in your life."

The green eyes watching her so raptly softened even as they became fiercely protective. "Never, absolutely never! If I'm going to continue these studies, even slowly, I'll need you more than ever, so anyone or anything that tries to make itself more important will find itself getting kicked into the back seat! That's the emergency brake on this whole thing, and why close relationships are such a vital part of it. No _Natoshi'ana _ever gave up a single person in favor of whatever work they were doing, we can't. Work may provide things to do with your life, but the people you love _are_ life."

Megamind suddenly found himself the focus of two very startled gazes. "Wow," Minion managed to say first. "That's very profound, sir. Do you really believe that, or was it something in what you learned last night?"

His ward tried not to feel affronted, but couldn't quite avoid it entirely. "Of _course _I believe it, why would I be trying to explain it to you if I didn't? This isn't exactly my usual topic for conversation!"

While Roxanne tried to smother a giggle at this reaction, Minion conceded the point. "I suppose not," he said in a conciliatory manner. "Sorry, sir, I didn't mean to be rude."

"Give the fish a break," his wife suggested, teasing. "This isn't exactly the kind of situation _any _of us thought we'd ever find ourselves in. It's a lot easier to think life's going to go on rolling along the way it always has than to change so suddenly, and dramatically."

As abruptly as he'd turned testy, Megamind became amiable again. "That's true. I'm sorry, Minion, I shouldn't've snapped. That really _was_ more profound than most of what comes out of my mouth!"

The piscine smiled, pleased to have gotten such a ready apology, and relieved by the return of his friend's more cheerful demeanor. "It's okay, sir, I know how it feels now to wake up and have things in your head that weren't there when you settled down to go to sleep! It does take a while for everything to sort itself out. But it's not scary, Mrs. Roxanne," he added for her benefit, since she was planning to use the Teacher tonight. "It's sort of like you sat up all night studying and watching movies and surfing the Internet, but you remember everything about all three, and you're not the least bit tired. There were times when I was trying to learn new things to help Sir when I wished it could've been so easy!"

"And I could've used that during college," the reporter said wryly as she motioned for one of the kitchen bots to come refill her coffee cup. "Someday, you should see if there's a way to reproduce this kind of teaching technology, hon," she suggested to Megamind, who was back to digging into his breakfast with great gusto. "I know you've said these other data gems were all locked so only you can access them, but if new ones could be made so that anyone could use them, it could completely change the way education works — and how much it costs."

The ex-villain considered this as he finished a mouthful of muffin and scrambled eggs. "Eventually," he said when his mouth was empty. "It would need for me to learn a lot of other things first, and the initial cost would be fairly expensive — for the new system, not for the students. That would probably be a bigger obstacle, changing the way things are done and getting people whose income is entrenched in the current means and methods of education to accept this as a good thing. But that's a long way off," he concluded with a sigh, waving his fork before using it to spear a piece of fresh fruit. "Unless you've changed your mind and _want_ me to rush ahead as fast as I can." He said that impishly, eyes twinkling.

Roxanne took a long drink of her coffee before rising to the challenge. "Is that what _you _want, now that you know all about what you are?"

Megamind made a dramatic show of thinking about it, then ended with a simple shake of his head. "No, _especially _not now. The only times that anything good came out of a _Natoshi'ana _doing that was when there was some sort of of major, immediate crisis that they could do something to avert and others couldn't. Allowing their latent talents to develop at their natural pace helped them to make the best use of them, for themselves and everyone else. That's what I want to do."

"And you're positive you don't want to just devote your time and your life to studying all the things your people sent with you?"

The blue genius now made a most eloquent face that would have been perfectly at home on a five-year-old with a sweet tooth asked if he wanted a plate of Brussels sprouts. "Why? I don't want to become a hermit, just learning, studying, researching, developing, all the time, every day — that's _boring! _I want to keep doing everything I'm already doing, and just add this in when I can. It's not necessary to devote all my life to it — as a matter of fact, none of the other _Natoshi'ana _did. By the time they reached maturity, they had a good idea of what their interests and the real needs of the world were, and they did what they could to satisfy both. Which was always an awful lot! They had education ministers watching them as they grew up so they could prepare things for them and have them ready when the time was right."

"But you didn't have that," Minion said, rather sadly. "I couldn't do any of that for you, and the schools weren't much help."

But Megamind's shrug was unperturbed. "I suppose I _am_ in a different situation, but that's not your fault, and I don't think it'll matter, in the long run. It might take me a little longer to sift through all those crystals and find out everything I have at my disposal, and figure out everything I really _want _to learn, but I like to look at it as an adventure, a treasure hunt, discovering new worlds!"

He waved his half-eaten slice of bacon for emphasis as he made the eager declaration, then stuffed it into his mouth and went back to attacking the last of his meal. "Besides, I haven't exactly been living with my head buried in the sand. I know what kinds of serious problems the world is having, and I've already had ideas about how to help. Finding things I can study to help me actually _do _what I've imagined will be almost like a miracle. I'd been expecting that I'd have to start entirely from scratch and invent entire new branches of technology and science. Not that I _couldn't,_ but having a better foundation to give me a head start will let me do _more_."

He spoke with great and earnest enthusiasm, which brought a warm smile to Roxanne's face, and a look of wistful pride to Minion's. She said what they were both thinking. "After so many years of failing, that _would _be something like a miracle. Not that you can finally succeed, but that you can find a way to make up for all the years when you had to make do with next to nothing and figure out everything on your own. A lot of people never get a second chance like that."

As his mouth was full of his last bites of toast and jam, Megamind couldn't answer, but the abashed flush that colored his cheeks and ears was an answer of its own. "A third chance," he admitted shyly when he'd swallowed. "_You _gave me my second chance, Roxanne. Or maybe my thousandth," he speculated, his eyes shifting to Minion. "I wouldn't have survived without your help, and you've given me another chance over and over, when other people might've just walked out and left me to fend for myself."

"We're brothers, sir," the ichthyoid said, the statement simple but intensely heartfelt. "I've felt closer to you than I did to my own sisters, and I promised your parents and my mother that I'd help you even before you were born. Any time I would even _think_ about breaking my promise, it felt awful, and the one time I actually _did_ walk out on you..." He shuddered, his entirely little body shivering inside his habitat. "Well, let's just say that I _never _want to feel that horrible again. It was absolutely the worst night of my life!" The apologetic tremble in the fish's voice was just coming perilous close to his version of tears.

The ex-villain's lower lip wibbled a bit as he smiled at his guardian/brother; his eyes had misted over and he had just opened his mouth to say nothing more than, "Oh, Tori...!" when a loud and rather rude honking noise interrupted.

"Okay, guys," Roxanne piped up, having just blown her nose in her napkin, using a clean corner of it to dab at the tears leaking from her eyes, despite her effort to keep them unshed. "I think we're all getting just a wee bit _too_ mushy, here."

"Oh, yes!" "Right, right!" the two aliens agreed in chorus, Minion harrumphing to clear his throat and Megamind quickly rubbing at one eye, as if flicking away an errant bit of dust. It was really too early in the day to turn on the waterworks.

The reformed villain leaned over to give his wife a quick peck on the cheek. "Sorry," he apologized with his brightest and most charming grin, "but I think you just got a mild first-hand example of the sappier side of our strong emotionalism. I hope it was reassuring."

Roxanne stopped wiping her eyes to blink in confusion. "Reassuring? Why should the two of you starting to wallow in bromance be reassuring?"

He gestured broadly, flinging both arms wide and very nearly smacking one of the kitchen helper brainbots who were clearing away the dirty dishes. "Because if you took it and toned it down by half or more, I'd _still _be a pretty miserable sack of over-emotional mush. I'd have to just about _die _to turn into some kind of a cold and emotionless living supercomputer!"

He said it with such over-the-top histrionics, Roxanne burst out laughing, remembering all the melodrama of her many kidnappings. "I guess that's true," she finally managed to gasp out, now wiping away tears of mirth rather than mush. "Oh, sweetie, I always suspected that being with you would be one heck of a wild ride, though it's turning out to be a little wilder than I ever expected! Just promise me that if you see any new twists coming, you'll _try _to give me a little warning so I can fasten my seatbelt, okay?"

Megamind's broad smile turned mischievous. "I'll let you know as soon as I do," he vowed. "Though that might turn out to be only a five second warning."

Given how mercurial Megamind's life had been from the very beginning and how their entire world felt as if it had turned upside down or inside out in just a few days, they all knew that the joke might well be on them when it turned out to be true. Yet they laughed nonetheless, happy and relieved simply to know that this newest change to come into their lives was nothing to fear. It ended nothing but a chapter in the larger book of life, and they had only to turn the page and read on to discover what new and unpredictable wonders and mysteries might lie ahead.

* * *

><p>And so it was that three days later, the members of their little family gathered together in the seldom used formal dining room of the Lair's living quarters to celebrate a Thanksgiving on which they all had some reason to be grateful. Minion had spent the last two days teaming up with Madeleine and her helpers to prepare a sumptuous feast, to which they had invited a small but rather unusual assortment of guests.<p>

Wayne had come, bringing with him his mother, who hadn't felt right celebrating the day as she typically might at home, now that her husband was gone. So far, there had been a lot of talk and heated debate in the aftermath of Wayne's confession at the beginning of the week, but for the most part, it had gone as Roxanne predicted. Most people were willing to forgive Wayne the sins of his past so long as he made some effort to make things right in the present, and those who held stronger and more negative opinions would have their chance to be heard and have their feelings weighed in the balance when the official hearing was held in two weeks.

The other guests included Bernard Jennings, the curator of Megamind's museum, as he had no family with whom to share the holiday, and no other friends who had thought to ask him. Retired warden Ralph Thurmer and his wife Emily usually spent the holiday with their children and grandchildren, but this year, their family had decided to delay the celebration until Sunday, when their son Elliot would return from a long overseas tour of duty with his Army unit. And Kim and Ken Akiyama, Roxanne's best friend and her husband, frequently spent their holidays traveling to be with their relatives, but had decided to spend this year at home when they'd been invited to share it with their most unusual friends, who had asked them to be a part of this tiny but very unique extended family.

With the exception of Wayne, none of these people had ever been inside the Lair's hidden living quarters before, and when given a tour by their hosts, all had been suitably impressed and astonished. That Megamind might have a fascination with architecture and design had never occurred to any of them — save perhaps Warden Thurmer, who had lived through all of young Blue's bursts of interest as he ripped his way through every scrap of reading and educational material he could get his hands on both before and after his expulsion from school. That he had used that fascination to build himself a beautiful and comfortable home inside the shell of the same old power plant that concealed his Lair came as something of a shock — until they realized that it was a fitting metaphor for Megamind himself, who had hidden the good person he was inside the shell of the villain, protecting something beautiful from discovery and harm by concealing it under a veneer of ugliness.

After the tour, they gathered in the central living room to talk and laugh, having been banned from the kitchen by Minion and Madeleine, though a few of the brainbots who could be trusted not to act up in front of guests came and served them drinks and the hors d'oeuvres that had been prepared. Though the ichthyoid was in the kitchen, overseeing the final dinner preparations, he would join them when it was time to sit down at the table for the feast.

Conversation eventually turned to the recent incident at the prison and Wayne's interview, which finally led to the revelation of what Megamind had discovered in his escape pod in the wee hours of Saturday morning, the message from his father, the devices containing the amassed knowledge and arts of their civilization, and the revelations of why he, Minion, and Wayne had been the last survivors of their kinds. Roxanne had indeed taken her turn to learn these things on Monday night, and she was able to help in the telling, which they kept as brief as possible. For Wayne's sake, they glossed over his father's part in the tragedy, but knowing of it and in his renewed spirit of integrity, Wayne himself mentioned it. Those listening were surprised and intrigued and more than slightly amazed by it all — the proof of which was shown in the devices that contained and transmitted the information — and ultimately, they were accepting.

To everyone's surprise, the first to speak was Lady Scott, who was dabbing at her eyes with a lace-edged handkerchief. "I've always wanted to know more about how my little boy happened to come to me," she said without the slightest trace of anger or disbelief.

Just about everyone looked at her with shock — except for Bernard, who required the direct application of a high voltage line to show any sign of something so non-snarky. They'd all anticipated either denial or stony silence from the woman, but ever since the death of Lord Scott, Elizabeth Scott was surprising all who knew her by returning to the woman she'd once been, prior to her life with a demanding, controlling, but emotionally apathetic husband. Still, Wayne goggled at her in his own disbelief. "You've always said I was your 'special Christmas present,' Mom," he pointed out.

She snorted delicately. "Wayne, dear, do give me _some _credit for not being a complete ninny! Your father may have taken my little joke and run with it because he hated seeming ignorant and foolish, but I do know you can't go pick out a baby like a puppy at the pound, wrap him up, and put him under the tree! No, I saw your little pod and how strong you were, and when you started to fly, I had my suspicions. But you were such a good little boy, I couldn't understand how anyone would send you away. I always had a secret fear that someday, your real parents would come to take you home, and I did love you so — too much, I'm afraid. Now, I'm glad to know the truth — though I _am _sorry that you lost everything in such a dreadful way — all three of you," she added, giving Megamind a tentative smile and nodding toward the kitchen where Minion was busily at work. "I wish they could've sent some sort of note with all of you, explaining things — but then, they didn't know our language, did they? And I suppose they had rather a lot of more important things on their minds."

Megamind rolled his eyes and was about to say that _his _people, at least, _did _know the languages of Earth, but they hadn't known exactly where his pod would land, and knowing of the world's many severe political tensions, they didn't want to risk him being rejected because he had accidentally been sent with a message in the language of an enemy. Roxanne elbowed him slightly, shushing him. "They certainly did," the reporter said with a polite smile for Lady Scott. "It honestly amazes me that they were able to keep it together and function well enough to send these three to safety. I shudder to think what might happen here if people actually knew for certain that the world was going to end rather horribly in only a few months."

"It'd be business as usual," Bernard opined in a voice so dry, one could almost feel the dust settling like snow. "Some nut cases would go crazy, trying to make sure they survived — though why they don't get that end means _end,_ I'll never know — and the rest of the people wouldn't believe it until it actually happened. Are you sure the things you saw are for real? Our tech isn't even as good as Megamind's, and we can still manage some pretty convincing CGI effects."

"It isn't a movie or a projection," the blue genius said with another look of exasperation. "It's directly input to the brain via a sophisticated neural communications system. There's no photography to be faked."

"And before you ask," Roxanne added when the curator opened his mouth and she just knew what was about to come out, "it's not a mind controller, just an information processor. It's almost like living through the events, not merely seeing recordings of them, and somehow, it just _feels_ right. I mean, you can tell that it's not just a story or an exaggeration or a lie."

"That was one of the necessary functions of the system," her husband confirmed, "to keep what was intended to be educational from being used as means of delivering twisted propaganda. My people had been peaceful for thousands of years, but we did have our nasty warlike phase a long time ago. That was the life's work of the first _Natoshi'ana, _actually, improving parts of our technology so that history would never again be rewritten by the victors, or anyone else. When all that remains is the naked truth, it teaches the kind of humility that makes warfare very unappealing. Not that there was never any more fighting or competition among us, but it always remained on a very personal level — like you and me, Wayne."

His ex-rival smiled wryly. "I was about to say something about that. But I guess that if you completely get rid of competition and ambition, there's not much of a reason to strive for something better, to discover new things."

Warden Thurmer snorted. "And with you having superpowers and Mykaal having super-intelligence, the competition was just sort of doomed to get out of hand." He smiled warmly at his ersatz son. "I always knew you were something special, even when you were six months old and hell on two little blue feet. I can't say I enjoyed watching the results of a lot of your 'growing pains,' but I'm glad to know that there _was _a reason behind it — and I'm even more glad to know that you'll finally put _all_ your talents to good use. That _is _what you're planning to do, isn't it?"

Megamind nodded vigorously. "Oh, yes, sir, absolutely! That's what I've been trying to do for over three years, now, and this should help me find more efficient and effective ways to do it — and so many other things! Just last night, I was thinking about your handicapped son and Roxanne's cousin, and it occurred to me that there _are _things that can be done to help them, to... repair the damage, if that doesn't make it sound too mechanical, that is," he added with a faint lavender-pink flush.

At the wide-eyed looks he was being given from everyone in the room, even Bernard, he hurriedly explained. "I mean, I'm not talking about putting _people _up on the rack to do maintenance work, but I _do _know things about both physiology and self-repairing systems, and I suddenly started to see commonalities among all the necessary functions, how it actually _would _be possible to invent temporary cybernetics that would begin by compensating for the damaged or malformed organics while the body's cellular generation and other autonomous systems are stimulated to a state of accelerated _re_generation, so that by the end of the cybernetic device's effective functionality, it could be removed because it would no longer be needed, the body having effectively healed and regenerated itself! I—"

The ex-villain abruptly became aware of the way he was being looked at by everyone, including his wife. He gulped. "Um... ah... of—of course, I guess I really don't know for sure, yet, I didn't mean to offend anyone, but I... ah... I just meant..."

Roxanne put an effective end to his babble-fit suddenly turned uneasy and nervous with a brief gentle kiss and hug. "It's okay, sweetie, I don't think anyone was offended, just surprised."

"Were you on the level about being able to do that sort of thing?" Bernard asked, for once in a normal and genuinely interested voice. "I think just about everyone must know at least one person with some sort of severe handicap — I have at least three friends with serious conditions the medical community can barely help, much less cure. This isn't some kind of bad joke, is it?"

Megamind scowled, offended. "No, what kind of an inhuman monster do you think I am?" he demanded tersely. "That'd be a totally sick joke, and I wouldn't even _think _it!"

Roxanne patted his arm to soothe him. "Down, tiger, it's just Bernard. You know he has all the tact of a rusty nail, don't let him spoil the party. And Mykaal's right," she added to the bespectacled curator, her expression smiling but stern. "He wouldn't ever joke about something like that. It's not only rude and tasteless, it's unheroic."

Ken Akiyama, who had liked Megamind even when the rest of the city was convinced of his evilness, smirked. "Say you're sorry for being an insensitive jerk, Jennings, or you'll probably wind up eating with the brainbots — and I don't know about you, but whatever's cooking smells _way _too good to pass up!"

Like most anyone, Bernard didn't like being ganged up on, but even he had to admit, privately, that he might've been a mite out of line. "Sorry," he said, a bit on the curt side but not begrudgingly. "It's just that I'm kind of tired of hearing researchers always saying they're on the verge of curing something and then never delivering. Makes me think they don't want people _cured, _just kept alive enough and sick enough to be constantly giving 'em business." It was a cynical attitude, but not entirely without reason. As a reporter, Roxanne had done investigations into corruption in the health care and insurance industries, and knew that Bernard had some justification for feeling as he did.

Warden Thurmer used the momentary pause in the conversation as his opening to veer its course into safer waters. "Is this a little example of what happened when you tripped the security systems and blew the power in the entire isolation wing of the prison last Saturday?" he asked Megamind, smiling with good-natured amusement.

That won a bark of laughter from Roxanne. "No, he just walked through the door to his old cell! If he'd been in the middle of one of his babble fits, he probably would've taken out power on the entire east side of the city!"

Though her remarks made her husband's embarrassed blush return, it also made him smile, albeit crookedly. "I really didn't expect that to happen," he confessed. "I did make a few tweaks to improve the system, but I didn't think it would do _that! _I went back and made sure everything was fixed on Tuesday — not that Hal Stewart actually _needs _that level of security, but if someone who _does_ comes along, the cell will be much more effective."

"So there's no possibility that the powers he had could come back?" Kim Akiyama, a legal researcher, asked, curious. Her current job involved finance rather than criminal law, but the bank she'd worked for had been hit twice during Megamind's days as Evil Overlord, first by Megamind, who had done little damage to the place, hadn't hurt a fly, and had eventually returned the money he'd taken, and then by Stewart, who had done considerable damage, hadn't returned a dime, and had seriously hurt and killed a number of the bank's employees and patrons. Like many other city residents, she was concerned by occasional rumors that claimed the self-misnamed "Tighten" would spontaneously regain his terrifying powers.

But Megamind shook his head. "Not a chance. At this point, the possibility is less than one tenth of a percent, and I'm already working on ways to make that possibility absolute zero. Right now, keeping him in isolation is a kindness to the guards and the other inmates. He has all the social graces and personal hygiene of a dung beetle. I'm glad Warden Alvarez had the foresight to have his cell sanitized before I got there, or I might've passed out from the stench, not the knockout gas."

Roxanne scolded him for exaggerating, but only with a half-playful swat, since she had pretty much the same opinion of Hal. Just then, Minion appeared from the corridor to the kitchen, resplendent in a new apron that Roxanne had had made for him when they'd made the plans to invite others to the Lair for Thanksgiving. Solid black, it bore the boldly imprinted message, _BE NICE TO ME OR I'LL POISSON YOUR FOOD. _The linguistic pun was something she couldn't resist after they'd been discussing possibilities for the menu, and the subject of the French word for fish being so similar to "poison" came up while Roxanne was flipping through one of his myriad cookbooks and recipe collections. Minion had gotten a big laugh out of it, saying that if he prepared fish the only way he really enjoyed it, all the guests would be swimming in their counter-current pool, trying to catch their meals in their teeth while it was alive and still wriggling.

"Dinner's just about ready," he announced cheerfully. "So unless everyone's stuffed from the hors d'ouvres, we can move into the dining room."

"Aren't you going to be eating with us?" Emily Thurmer asked, not wanting the ichthyoid to feel left out. She'd always liked young Blue's unusual guardian and companion, and she hated it when people thought of him as nothing more than Megamind's animal servant.

She was glad when Minion responded with a ready, "Of course, Mrs. Thurmer! This is just the first time we've had so many people here for dinner — or anything, really! — and we've used the dining room so little, I wanted to make sure all the brainbots got everything just right."

Kim gave the cyber-bodied fish a bright smile. "You're just what every woman's looking for, Minion, a guy who cooks, cleans, sews, knows how to be a perfect gentleman, has a sense of humor, and can fix her car to boot. If you're interested, I have a sister who could use someone like you in her life..."

In the three years since Roxanne and Megamind had started dating and the aliens had met and become acquainted with more of the reporter's local friends, this had become a comfortable banter between Kim and Minion, with her always extolling his virtues and trying to set him up with one of her female friends or relatives. And as he always did, he laughed it off, declared that his life was too full of excitement already, and that was that. He let Roxanne and Megamind lead the others to the appropriate room while he ducked back into the kitchen to give a few last orders to the brainbots who would be serving and to shuck off his new apron to be presentable for dinner.

Roxanne had left the matter of setting up and decorating the dining room to the boys, given that she claimed no expertise whatsoever when it came to design and interior decorating. She'd been a little afraid that her husband's flamboyant sense of presentation would lead to some kind of Nightmare Before Thanksgiving ambience, but she needn't have worried. Both of them actually had a good design sense, and they knew that what was appropriate for one's job as a hero — or a villain — was out of place for an occasion such as this, at home with friends and loved ones.

Roxanne really had no idea which of them had done what, but in the end, it didn't matter, even if the brainbots had done it all after being told to watch Martha Stewart shows for a month. The room was elegant, the table beautifully set, and all the delicious scents wafting from the connecting door to the kitchen had everyone eagerly looking for their places. The place cards were Minion's idea, Roxanne was sure, though the handwriting on them was plainly Megamind's. When it came to presentation, her husband could be as much of a sucker for tradition as his old friend and guardian.

The guests were all suitably impressed with the dining room and its decoration for the harvest holiday, even Wayne, who was the only one to have seen the room before. And though she recognized the blue hero's script on the cards, Roxanne was sure Minion was primarily responsible for deciding who should sit where. The seating had been arranged so that Megamind was at the head of the table and Wayne at the foot, an amusing little nod to their former rivalry that was slowly becoming a more solid friendship. Roxanne sat to her husband's right with the Akiyamas and Lady Scott seated on that side of the table; Minion's place was to his left, with the Thurmers and Bernard beside him. When they were all seated, the brainbot servers streamed in from the kitchen, taking up their assigned positions and awaiting the signal to begin doing their tasks.

Earlier in the week, after Roxanne had had her turn with the Teacher, she had discussed some of the intriguing glimpses of Ayalthan customs that she'd seen with Megamind, which had led to her telling him of her favorite traditions for Thanksgiving. Aside from the feasting aspect that so many people enjoyed, she had memories from her early childhood, when her grandparents had still been alive and her parents had at least gotten along reasonably well. Holidays with either set of grandparents was much more pleasant than with her parents alone, as the two couples had been genuinely nice people. Both had had the tradition of taking a moment just before the big meal, not specifically to pray, but to mention something for which they'd been thankful during the past year. Sometimes, the entire family would take turns, each person offering their bit of gratitude; other times, it was only the head of whichever household they were in doing the speaking.

When she mentioned this, Megamind remembered how on each of the past two Thanksgivings, which they'd spent with Roxanne, she'd asked to have a moment to do just this before they began the meal. The first year had been at Roxanne's apartment, but the second year had been at the Lair, and as the nominal head of the household, Megamind realized that he should have been the one to speak. She'd tried to dismiss his embarrassment by reminding him that this was a tradition of her family, not a universal thing, and she hadn't ever told him of it before. Now that he knew, he was adamant about doing his part to fulfill her custom properly — until the moment actually arrived, and he felt everyone else looking at him for some sign of what to do next.

He started to panic, suddenly feeling very unsure of his ability to do this without seeming foolish, despite the fact that he'd completely thought through what he wanted to say — until he felt Roxanne's hand settle atop his where it was resting on the table. Green eyes met blue, she gave him a reassuring little smile and nod, and he instantly felt himself able to breathe again. He smiled his thanks for her support, then turned back to their guests with a slightly shy confidence.

"As much as I know about things like science and math and inventing, I'm... not very knowledgeable when it comes to a lot of things other people take for granted, like social customs," he admitted, quickly amending, "and that's not your fault, Warden. You did the best things you could think of to protect me from being exploited and hurt by the unscrupulous, and if I didn't make the most of the chances I _did _have to learn such things... it's not your fault, either, Wayne, so quit hanging your head like that, I _know_ you're not praying!

"My point is just that things happened the way they happened, and bad as my past might've been in some ways, it wasn't entirely awful. I'm still here, I'm alive, I have good friends, a fantastic brother, the most beautiful and perfect wife in the universe, work that gives me a real sense of purpose and belonging, and now a new kind of future to look forward to, something I never could've imagined possible. It's almost overwhelming, realizing just how much I have now when for so long, it felt like I had almost nothing, and even less to look forward to."

He paused long enough to take a deep, steadying breath, not having anticipated the rise of emotions that came with saying such things out loud. "So this is a custom of Roxanne's, that before beginning the dinner on Thanksgiving, the head of the household would tell of something that had happened that year for which they were grateful. And I realized that even though she and Minion — Ootori — and I are equals as far as I'm concerned, this is the house and home I designed and built with my own hands, so this year at least, I should really be the one to speak."

He chuckled ruefully. "The problem is, so much has happened to me during this last year, it's almost impossible for me to decide which thing I'm most grateful for — _almost_."

He lifted Roxanne's hand that was covering his own, kissed the back of it, then shifted his own hand so that they were holding each other's, his eyes fixed on his beautiful wife as he spoke again. "Almost exactly three months ago, you made what I'd thought was an impossible dream come true when you married me. I've been so alone for so much of my life, the thought that you willingly and happily chose to spend the rest of it with me is going to be the one thing I'm most grateful for, every year from now on." Roxanne's cheeks flushed a deeper pink, knowing just how sincerely he meant it, but her eyes sparkled with her smile of loving gratitude for such a compliment.

Mission accomplished in getting that much said, Megamind looked again to their guests and Minion, now feeling more confident. "But I'm also grateful for the fact that finally, this big, empty room and long, empty table that I built years ago on some kind of foolishly hopeful whim that someday, it might actually be used finally _is _being used, by people I'm grateful to have in my life. The loneliness of never fitting in, never feeling normal, never feeling accepted is gone today, because I've finally found a place to fit in, a way to feel my own sort of normalcy, and good people who accept me as I am. That's all I've ever really wanted — I think it's all _anyone _ever really wants, and I want to thank all of you for helping me get to this place.

"And I should also thank what my people sometimes called the Guiding Power, the designer of the universe that they believed lays out the choices of our lives like bright pebbles along the path. We choose for ourselves, by ourselves, which ones we want to pick up, to keep or toss aside. I seem to have picked up a lot of the bad ones along the way, but thanks to all of you, I know how to make better choices, now. I'm grateful, to you, to the Power, to anything and anyone who helped me make it to this place in my life, and gives me new opportunities every day to make the future even better. And lastly, I'm most grateful of all for my parents, who might have died decades ago, but who made their last act giving me the chance to live."

"Amen," the deep voice of Warden Thurmer said softly but reverently, acknowledging that his blue "son's" words were as much a prayer of thanks as an expression of simple gratitude. His word was echoed around the table, with many a soft sniffle and wiped eye and half-successful attempt to hide the emotions that had been stirred up.

Minion chose that moment to take his ward's free hand to squeeze it ever so gently in wordless approval; Roxanne did the same — and suddenly, hands were being clasped all about the table, not even the cynical Bernard refusing to share in a brief moment of common gratitude and thanks. Then the moment passed, hands were released, and Megamind nodded to the brainbots to begin serving the meal, which commenced with laughter and joy.

And in the Place Beyond where only the Now exists, the essence of two who had been watching over this world with caring and hope, tied in their brightness of being to the essence of their dazzling son, watched as he at long last truly came into his own, and smiled.

_Knowledge of what is possible is the beginning of happiness._

_George Santayana_

The End


End file.
